Colonization
by the morrighan
Summary: Invasion can take many forms.
1. Chapter 1

Colonization

Blue.

It was a pretty shade. A soothing shade. A deep but rich cobalt color on the wall. And this close a lighter blue could be discerned within it, even a teal shading that shyly revealed a greenish hue that was all but invisible except up close. This close, as Moira O'Meara was nearly being knocked into the wall. A rhythmic thrusting guiding her up, up, up to the wall as she stared at the blissful color. Before closing her eyes as the sexual pleasure flooded, flooded as the orgasm neared. Stuttering whimpers escaping her lips with each possessive motion.

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room. Colonel Sheppard to the control room." The calm voice broke from the comm unit on the opposite wall with crystal clarity. Overriding the whimpers and groans emanating from the bed.

John Sheppard groaned. Twice. Once from the abrupt interruption. Once from the exquisite pleasure that was cascading up and down his cock as spasms brought him closer, closer to release. Deep inside Moira he thrust, thrust again, sensual bursts escalating as she tightened on him. Just beginning to pulse with his quickening motions.

Moira moaned, tensing her muscles over him. Clutching the headboard. "Oh John! Oh John, John!" she strained, circling so close to the climax now she trembled with anticipation.

John grunted, a series of expletives leaving his lips as he thrust once more, determined to bring them both, to fall heedlessly into the rush of sex, of love, of passion.

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room. Colonel Sheppard, please respond."

"Fuck!" he snarled. Rested on her back a moment. Fingers sliding from the top of her cleft, from one hard nipple. He kissed her bare shoulder. "Sorry, baby. Hold position." He slid out of her, eliciting another delicious murmur from her. He rolled onto his back, side. Sat and snatched his earpiece off the nearby table. Tapped it. "This is Sheppard! Copy!" he growled, voice harsh. Irritated. A sensual undertone made the words breathy. Made Moira turn her head to stare at him. He sat with his back to her. Tension visible in his bare back. His broad shoulders. Droplets of sweat slid down his side. Down the nape of his neck.

Moira freed the headboard. Sat, bending her knees under her. Relaxing, annoyed and frustrated. Her body was still reeling, still demanding. Unsatisfied. "John?" Her voice was terse. Breathless.

"Sir, we're reading an energy fluctuation. It was very quick and gone now. I've called Doctor McKay."

"Understood. I'm on my way. Sheppard out."

Moira smirked. Sighed heavily. "Isn't that the truth, sweetie? Sheppard out. Damn it, John! Now? It is always mid-coitus! Do you have an alarm on your ordnance?"

He laughed, turned to her. She had an annoyed, flustered expression. Hair wild, swirling down her bare shoulders, down to her bare breasts. Bare skin glistening with sweat. He eyed her breasts, her hips. He lunged across the bed to kiss her. A deep, teasing kiss as his hand ran up her back. "If there is, baby, you always set it off."

She smiled. "But we didn't get off, sweetie!" She pouted prettily. "And you were so close! So close!"

He sighed. Kissed her again. "I know, damn it. Don't you move. I'll be back ASAP. Damn it!" he grumbled, strode to his room to dress.

Moira pulled a blanket around her, sighing. "Hurry, sweetie! There's nothing worse than a half-fudge."

He laughed. "Don't I know it, baby! Damn it!" He returned to her, clad in a black t-shirt, blue pants. Paused to fasten the double holster straps on his thigh. Checked his nine millimeter handgun before he slid it into the holster. He kissed her for a long moment. "Don't move, Moira. I fully intend to finish what I started."

She smiled. Touched his jaw. "Without the gun, I hope, colonel."

"Huh? Oh." He shrugged. "You never know. Don't move, baby. When I get back I will do a thorough recon and then we will deploy fully."

"You better, sweetie. Else I may have to demote you to major."

"That's not fair, baby," he pouted.

She smiled. Touched his thigh. "Sorry, colonel. Those are the rules."

"Damn it!" He kissed her again. Left.

John strode to the control room, glowering. Pure murder in his eyes. His body tense, unsatisfied. Still feeling Moira enfolding him, taking him. Her scent lingering on him. The vision of her naked body dancing in his mind. He strode to Rodney McKay who was hunched over a console, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Status!" he barked.

"Sir! There's been no other energy spikes," a technician reported in a yelp, making John briefly smile.

"Rodney?"

"Pinpointing the origin as we speak. It only lasted two tenths of a second. Huh. We're receiving."

"Receiving what?" John looked over the scientist's shoulder. A swirl of colored bursts were filling the screen. Looking more like squiggly lines than any kind of coherent information.

"A data burst. Here. It's encrypted."

"Can you–"

"Of course! Running an algorithm now." He scooted to another console. "Oh oh."

"What oh oh?" John asked, following.

"The data burst...it came from the, um, from the anomaly."

"The what?" John asked softly, slowly. His temper flaring.

"Only for a fraction of a second! Just enough time for a data burst to infiltrate our systems. That's all! No ship got through!" Rodney assured. Glancing at his friend.

"McKay," John warned.

"It's closed, John, I swear! Look!" He tapped the screen. "The protocols shut it down at two point three seconds. No time for any physical object to pass into our reality. It's like someone slipped a note under the door but the door is still shut and locked."

"Son of a bitch!" John swore, somewhat relieved. But not quite. "Bypass it to a firewall–"

"Already done! Ah...here we go. Translation in three, two, one." Rodney stared. "What the...what kind of language is that?"

John stared, frowning. The letters were definitely English. Just not the words. He glanced at his wedding ring. Recalling the inscription on it. Glanced back at the screen. "Son of a bitch. It's in Gaelic."

Rodney looked at him. "What?"

"Irish." He tapped his earpiece. "Moira, I need you in the control room now. Hurry!"

"Um, John, are you sure it's–"

"Yes! Are you one hundred percent positive that nothing else, that no one got through?"

"Yes. There wasn't time–"

John tapped his earpiece again. "This is Colonel Sheppard. Delta, Beta patrol the southwest pier, all ingress points from the ocean. Lorne, Reynolds, to me with full squads."

"John, there's no way he could have gotten through," Rodney insisted, shaking his head.

"John, Rodney, what's happening?" Elizabeth Weir ran to them.

Both men stared at her. At the odd appearance of a tennis racket clutched in one hand. Her white outfit fetching, especially the shorts. Rodney pulled his gaze up from her long legs to meet her worried gaze. "Huh? Oh, we've received a transmission from the anomaly, but nothing else got through. Nothing else," he insisted, glancing at John before turning back to the computer.

John smirked. "Hold onto that. You might need it," he quipped, looked at the screen again. He recognized Moira's name scattered here and there among the puzzle of words he couldn't read.

"What language is that?" Elizabeth asked, staring at it. She twirled the tennis racket in her hand slowly.

"Gaelic."

"Gaelic?" She looked at John. "Then it's from the–"

"Yes." John turned as Moira rushed to him. Hastily clad in a blue t-shirt, khaki pants. Her loose hair flying behind her. "John? What is it?" she asked, breathless. Anxious.

He smiled at her disheveled appearance. "Translate." He pointed at the screen.

Moira stared at him. Eyed the screen. Looked back at him. "That's...that's Gaelic!"

"I know. Translate," he repeated.

"I...how...the colonel?" she asked in disbelief. Alarm.

"He's not here, Moira." Nevertheless John stepped next to her. Touched the comforting solidity of his sidearm holstered on his thigh.

"Are you sure she can translate the whole–" Rodney started to ask.

"Yes. She can. Moira?"

"I can try. I mean, I'm a bit rusty," she hedged. Staring at the words as her mind was already translating them. Trying not to react to some of the more startling, personal words.

"Rusty? Can you do it or not? I'm sure I can find a suitable translation program but it may take a while as Gaelic isn't exactly the first or even tenth choice on most computer programs," Rodney grumbled.

"I don't know!" she flared, meeting his gaze. "It's not like I ever speak it here!" She leaned to look over Rodney's shoulder. "Can you send a copy to my–"

"Done." John tapped a key, typed a command.

"Hey! I was going to–" Rodney objected.

"I'll need to consult a dictionary. I haven't read this much Gaelic for several years," she explained, eyes racing over the script.

John watched her, suspicious at the delaying tactic. Wondering how much she was actually able to translate. "Moira? The gist of it," he prompted.

"The enzyme virus...worked, nearly complete extermination of the ATA Wraith," she picked out phrases, words, uncomfortable under John's assessing scrutiny. "Side-effects...collapsing proteins...advance to the Alpha site...several hostages to...security breech. 'Gate access to...ninth chevron power acceleration?"

"Whoa, wait! That again? Ninth chevron power acceleration? Like how that pod dialed off that planet with the hibernating Wraith drones? Details?"

"Oh my God!" Moira exclaimed, eyes widening. She straightened, catching John's arm. "John! They're coming! They're coming here!


	2. Chapter 2

Colonization2

"Who? Who is coming here?" Rodney demanded. He glanced up to see the control room filling with marines.

"Sir! 'Gate activated! Incoming!" a technician exclaimed, even as the chevrons began to lock. The inner wheel turning. One by one the symbols lit in blue.

"I can see that, Marsden," John laconically noted. "Shut it down."

"I can't, sir! No IDC! No–"

"Move!" Rodney leapt out of the chair, ran to the console. "Damn it! We can't shut it down!" he verified.

"Raise the shield." John was still calm amid the rising chaos around him.

"The shield is not responding! They're accessing our protocols and overriding!" Rodney declared, frantically typing commands.

"Keep trying." John tapped his earpiece. "All teams, this is Sheppard. Double time to the 'Gate room. Heavy ordnance. I repeat, heavy ordnance. Attention all Atlantis personnel. The city is on lock down until further notice. Get to your quarters before lock down commences in five." He stepped to a console. Typed in his code. "Initiate!" he ordered.

"Wait! Who is coming?" Elizabeth asked, turning as men were moving everywhere. As the 'Gate room was filling with marines. "John! Is it your dark side version or–"

"No! It's the Wraith!" Moira answered, staring at the Stargate as the sequence continued. Even as a ninth chevron lit, causing a power surge that crackled and caused the lights to flicker.

"I was right. Ninth is for distance," John remarked calmly.

Alarms started to ring. Doors were shutting all over the city, locking the inhabitants wherever they were. Lights were dimming. Blue flashes that pulsed in time to the strident alarms.

"I can't raise the shield! It's too late! We've been locked out of our own systems! We can't–" The KAWOOSH of the Stargate interrupted. Marines moved into position, guns trained on the shimmering, silent wormhole.

John looked at Moira. "Major Lorne! Execute O'Meara!" Without another word he sprinted to the 'Gate room. Ronon Dex followed on his heels, intercepting him. "Flanking position! Nothing gets out of this room! Nothing! Rodney, lock us in!"

"What? John!" Elizabeth started, stunned.

"Do it!" John ordered, grabbing a P90 from Jason Reynolds.

Evan Lorne ran to Moira. He grabbed her arm. "Moira! Let's go!"

"What? What is execute O'Meara?"

Evan would have laughed at her expression except for the gravity of the situation. "No time! Come on, we have to move now!"

"No! I'm not leaving!"

"Moira! Go!" John ordered harshly, glancing up to see her. He whirled, gun raised as a sound emanated from the shimmering wormhole. "Rodney! Lock us in now!"

"Doing it!" Rodney shouted, securing the doors to the 'Gate room with his code. The ponderous doors slid shut, locking into place.

"No! No, wait! John! John, Evan, please!" Moira was being pulled from the control room.

"Moira, come on, now!" Evan urged.

She stared as the first ATA Wraith came through the event horizon. Looking different yet the same. Holding a weapon and firing.

"Shoot to kill! No quarter!" John ordered, firing his weapon as his men did the same. "Lorne! Code green! Go!"

"Yes, sir! Moira, now!" Evan dragged her into a run for the Jumper bay.

"Wait! Where–"

"Direct orders!"

"What orders? Evan!"

"Hurry, we don't have much time before the bay is locked!" Evan urged. They ran down a back hallway to the Jumper bay. Past the ships to one situated past all the others. Looking disused. Evan punched in a code. The hatch opened. He all but shoved Moira up the ramp into the ship. Shut the hatch with a slam and ran to power up the vehicle. "Sir! Jumper X is a go!"

"Access bay opening in two! Go, go, go!" John ordered, his voice crackling on the comm.

"Belay that! Keep those doors shut!" Elizabeth countered.

"Access bay open! Go! That ship must get through!" John ordered sternly. His anger almost visible as his voice crackled on the radio. "Status?"

"Ship's away, sir!" a technician yelled. Faltered as Elizabeth turned to glare at him. "Um, ma'am...I just..." he stammered.

"Evan! What the hell is this?" Moira demanded, but nearly fell into a seat as the ship rose rapidly. Power surging as Evan deftly handled the controls. He accelerated, streaking through the opening on the ceiling that revealed the deep blue sky. He swept up over the city.

"Here we go. Moira, I'll need you to help dial the address with me. Moira!"

"What? What address? Where are we going? You mean, you mean Pleistocene Park?" she realized. Baffled. She stared down at the increasingly shrinking city as they flew higher, higher. Aiming for space.

"Yes. Jumper X a go for Code green, sir. In five."

"But how? We can't access a Stargate from here!"

"Sheppard had McKay put some special modifications into this ship. So we can get there. Trouble is we only have enough power to get there. In other words it's a one-way trip."

* * *

John knelt in a crouch, firing with the marines. Ronon beside him, big gun blasting everything in sight. Lasers flew, pinging off the walls, off the floor. More Wraith filed through the Stargate, shooting with stunners and a weird weapon that shed a bright crimson wave of light across the air. They resembled the Wraith in this galaxy, but were taller. Their face markings more distinct. Some appeared more human. Some wore battle armor that bullets bounced off harmlessly. The most disturbing thing to John, however, was the fact that they all had brown, human eyes. Moira's eyes.

The gunfire was deafening. The room becoming a smoky, obscure mess. Elizabeth clutched her tennis racket, staring in dismay. It was becoming harder and harder to see clearly. Figures moving near the 'Gate, around it. The weapons discharge a constant cacophony in addition to the screaming alarms and flashing lights. "Turn that thing off!" she declared.

"Can't! It's automated!" Rodney shouted over the din. He was racing from console to console. "I still can't access the 'Gate! It's like that ninth chevron is locking it in place!"

"Can you at least raise the shield?"

"No! Still trying!" he barked, shaking his head.

John whirled on his knees, sprang up and ran to Ronon's side. Where one Wraith fell to the floor two more appeared to replace it. "Crap! We're being seriously outnumbered here! Fall back! Fall back to point two!" he shouted. A man's scream erupted. Was silenced.

"They are harder to kill than our Wraith," Ronon growled, firing repeatedly. He grabbed a knife, flung into the throat of one to make it finally collapse to the floor. "Sometimes the old ways are the best ways."

John smirked for a moment. "Sometimes. Shit! Rodney, open the door on my mark!"

"Thank God!" Rodney muttered.

"Wait! John, are you sure? We can't let them loose in the city!" Elizabeth warned, as much as she hated to counter his order. Knowing she might be condemning all those men to their deaths.

Rodney stared at her, aghast.

"I know! But they'll be able to access our systems anyway! They have the gene! I have an idea! Rodney, on my mark!"

"Yes, John, got it! Just–"

"No!" Elizabeth shook her head, ignored Rodney's wide-eyed stare. "Not until Rodney can at least raise the shield!"

"I can't! I've told you, they have control of the 'Gate and all of it's systems!" he argued. "Elizabeth, for God's sake, you can't leave him in there!"

"I have to, Rodney, until you get that shield raised! John, hold out for a few more minutes and we can–" Another man's scream cut off her words. Sent a chill down her spine.

"Then hurry it up or we won't be around much longer!" John snapped. Swore. "Reynolds, flank to right! Peterson, to left! Circle and engage in a crossfire! Go! Ronon!" John leapt to his feet and swerved as a laser nearly hit him. Ronon dove, rolled, came up firing point blank at one of the Wraith. Blew a hole through its thigh were the armor was not there to protect it. But a blue beam hit the Satedan and he went down heavily. "Ronon! Shit!"

Power flickered. Abruptly the shielding on the glass walls fell, blocking all view of the 'Gate room and the desperate battle. "What the...Rodney!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Not me! Automated! That means only one thing," Rodney noted with a resigned shrug. "They are getting through."

* * *

Moira gasped as the ship accelerated. Rumbled with power. Abruptly she was flung back into her chair as space streaked past her. The stars blurring into a tunnel of blue and green and red swirls. "Oh my God! Hyperspace?"

"Yes. McKay modified this ship per the specs provided by that other colonel. But we only have enough power to go one way, to one destination. The system will burn out in fifteen, so let's hope we make it there in one piece," he noted grimly. Hands grasping the controls.

"Great," she muttered. Eyed the nebulas forming around them. "And how do we get back? Oh, the Stargate, right?"

"Yes. Don't worry, Moira, we have a way back."

"Well, that's something. Wait! What the hell was all that? What kind of a plan is this? Evan, once we reach the planet we have to go back! We can't just leave–"

"Negative. I have my orders. And my orders are to remain on Pleistocene Park until and only until Sheppard retrieves us. Sorry, Moira."

"And what if he doesn't? What if he can't?" she asked. Worry and horror locking her into a tense stance.

Evan shrugged. Silent. Flying the ship steadily towards their destination.


	3. Chapter 3

Colonization3

"Fall back! Fall back to the door! Shit! Clear the door first! Pincer motion to the 'Gate!" John rescinded his orders seeing a few Wraith at the door. Trying to access the panel. Lights blinked. "Son of a bitch! No!" He ran, firing. Leapt over a few bodies and slammed into a Wraith. It felt like he hit a rock. He reeled, but went down with the enemy. He drew his knife, savagely stabbed the neck. Blood spurted. "I guess the old ways are the best," he muttered, rolling off and to his feet. A laser zinged past his elbow but he whirled.

"Sir! Herding the cattle!"

"Go, go, go!" John ordered, firing. Guarding the door. He paused to turn, slammed his gun into the panel. Crystals shattered. Lights flickered. "Reynolds, to me! All teams to me! Rodney, on my mark!"

"Ready, John! I can't raise the shield! I can't!" Rodney declared angrily. Frustrated by his lack of success. Angered by his city being taken over by these monstrous Wraith. Worried at the fate of his friend locked in with them. "Elizabeth!"

"Keep trying! We need more time!" she shouted, free hand raised. "John, hold out!"

"Not for much longer! Rodney, mark!" John gestured as the remaining men formed a line. Firing at one as they backed up towards the door. To John's horror the Wraith were still coming out of the Stargate. A few were even pausing to feed on the men fallen at their feet. "Down! Down!" He glanced at the door at his back. Not moving. Still shut. "Rodney! Mark!"

"No! Belay that order! You need to raise the shield! We can't expose the city!" Elizabeth ordered tersely. Glaring at Rodney whose fingers hovered over the command code like a hawk frozen in mid-flight.

"I can't! You can't let him die in there!" Rodney asserted. Fingers flying to complete the sequence. "John! You have a go!"

"No! Rodney!" Elizabeth protested.

The doors opened slowly. "Fall back! Now! Reynolds, to me! Grenades on my mark!" John ordered, relief flooding him. He pushed men through the doors. Jason stood on the other side, doing the same. "Fall back! Now! On my mark, Reynolds!"

"Yes, sir!" Jason agreed, grasping two grenades firmly. Blood was streaking down his arm. He didn't seem to notice.

Two men pulled Ronon out of the 'Gate room. The Satedan was out cold.

"Is that everyone?" John asked, firing and ducking as yet another barrage of lasers danced across the air. Hit the wall and panel. The door paused, clicking furiously as if it was stuck.

"All but the the the dead, sir!" Aaron Josephes stammered, rushing past to the sweet escape of the hallway.

"Fire in the hole! Mark!" John released the grenades. Jason did the same. The two men dove out of the room, rolling on the floor. "Rodney, close the doors! Shut the fucking doors!"

A deafening blast erupted. Shaking the walls, the floor. Screams and high-pitched shrieks rent the air. Lasers exploded, shattering walls and panels. Lights flashed brightly. Ponderously the doors began to close. Slowly, slowly. A Wraith stepped, staggered through. The marines fired, shredding it with bullets until it fell back into the room. The doors smacked shut with a whine.

Rodney's fingers were frozen on the keyboard. He was staring hard at the gray metal, as if he could see past the shielding to what lay beyond. He moved to another console. Stared. "Raising the shield," he gasped. As the program initiated at last.

Elizabeth was holding her breath. Staring at the shielding blocking her view. "John? John, do you copy? Does anyone copy?" Her voice sounded loud as the alarms abruptly ceased.

"Sheppard! Sheppard, copy!" Rodney shouted. He stepped to a computer. "I'll try to lower the shielding. We are regaining control of all systems."

Silence. Everyone was holding their breaths. Waiting.

* * *

"What do you mean, safety?" Moira flared, dread turning to anger as she faced Evan.

Evan checked the controls. Met her gaze. "Just what I said. Colonel Sheppard's direct orders, and I do mean direct orders are to get you to safety at all costs. All. Sorry. We have to maintain radio silence once we arrive. He will contact us once it is safe. Safe for you, Moira."

"That son of a bitch!" she fumed. "When was this planned? He never said a word to me!"

"Probably because you'd react like you are now," Evan noted with a quick smile. Sobered. "When you returned from Earth. Sheppard and I are the only two who know about it. Moira, he's protecting you. We've got enough supplies for two weeks. Food. Water. Other necessities. Sheppard packed a bag just for you with what he thought you might need. Reverting to real space in three, two, one. Hold on!"

The ship veered wildly as it sprang into normal space. A drive pod was whining, streaking a rising plume of smoke. Evan maneuvered the ship into a deceleration towards the planet beneath them. It wobbled.

"Evan?" Moira asked, grasping the sides of her chair as the ship rocked like a boat tossed in stormy seas. They broke the atmosphere and accelerated rapidly towards the ground.

"Shit! Hold on, Moira! This is going to be rough! Shit!" He veered the ship wildly as an enormous bird almost collided with them. They began to dive in a spin. Tossed by air currents and pulled by gravity inexorably towards the ground racing up to meet them.

"Evan!" Moira cried, bracing herself for a violent impact. "I don't think this is what John had in mind!"

"Really? You think?" he quipped, yanking back on the controls. The wounded ship veered up at the last moment, avoided impact but skidded, landed heavily near the Stargate. It bounced, bounced on the soft grasses, slid across the plain. Almost hit a herd of strange-looking camels that lacked humps before it came to a standstill at last. Sparks flew. The drive pod whined to a piercing wail, then fell silent. Power flickered ominously. Evan released the breath he had been holding. "Well, we made it."

"Yeah, great. Just great," Moira muttered, releasing her death grip on the chair's sides. She eyed the instruments. Their fading readings. "And we're stranded. We are going to the Stargate right now and returning to–"

"No, Moira, we can't. Lock down protocols will be in place until the crisis has passed."

"Damn it! Damn him and his overzealous protection! I should be in Atlantis! I should be with him! Those were the ATA Wraith, Evan! They could take over the city! What the hell was he thinking?"

"He was thinking of you, Moira."

Moira fumed, angry, worried, guilty. She stared out the viewport.

* * *

"Lowering the shield," Rodney said. His voice a dull monotone as he dreaded the worst. What lay behind the shields. Slowly the 'Gate room was revealed. It was full of smoke, debris. Air began to circulate, clearing the view. A view of utter carnage. Bodies littered the floor. Wraith. Human. Blood and guts splattered on the walls. The glass. The Stargate was still activated, but the Iris blocked it. A luminous glow in front of the still shimmering wormhole.

"Can you shut it down?" Elizabeth asked, appalled at the carnage.

"I'm trying! There's still some kind of interference from the other side! John! John, do you copy?" he shouted. "They must have made it to the hallway. It's locked down on either side."

"Sheppard! Copy! Anyone!" Elizabeth echoed. "Do we have cameras in that hallway?"

"No."

"What the hell is happening?" she fumed, anxious. "Rodney, shut the 'Gate down!"

"I'm trying!" he shouted back at her.

* * *

John blinked. Sounds were muffled. Voices sounded far, far away. His vision was blurry but clearing. Men were moving around him. Around his sprawled form on the floor. He shifted. P90 locked in his tight grasp. He looked up to see a man talking to him. Lips moving but the sounds were far, far away. Suddenly sound flooded his senses.

"Sir, sir? We're clear, sir! No hostiles in sight! Sir?"

John shook his head, groaned as he was helped to his feet. "Beckett! I need medical here now! Rodney, get that 'Gate shut! Elizabeth, get this hallway unlocked now! Do you have eyes in there? Copy?"

"John! We've got–"

"Incoming! 'Gate activity! It's dislocated the Iris!" Rodney shouted. "I can't override! Damn it! Get out of there, John!"

"Pull the ZPM! Cut all power to the city! Rodney, go!" John ordered, gestured. "Form up on me. If they come through those doors shoot to kill! They do not get past this hallway! Line up! Reynolds! Shit." Jason was slumped against the wall, knocked unconscious. "Josephes! With me!" he ordered the younger man. "Hold position!"

"On it! I should have thought of that," Rodney grumbled, breaking into a run from the control room.

"Go, go!" Elizabeth urged. "John, I'm implementing my command codes to unlock the hallway!"

"Belay that! Keep it locked down! If we can't contain them in the 'Gate room we will contain them here! Have Beckett get here double time! I've got men down!"

"Wormhole engaged!" a technician shouted. Alarms began ringing again. A claxon of sound and flashing lights. Elizabeth moved to the glass to see the shimmering event horizon once more, no longer blocked by their shielding. To her horror Wraith were emerging again.

"They're coming through! John!" she shouted.

"We're on it. Rodney! Pull the fucking ZPM now before more..." John's voice halted as the hallway was plunged into darkness.

Silence. The alarms ceased. All lights were extinguished. The Stargate abruptly disengaged. Stopped. Every console darkened, became quiet. The only sounds were the heavy breathing of the anxious humans.

John tensed. Staring at the door he couldn't see. But he could hear it. Whining in protest as it was being forced open. Inch by inch. "Four left, three right, each exit. Nothing gets through. On my mark deploy grenades into that opening and fire at will," he quietly ordered. Voice raw from shouting, from the thick smoke curling around them as the doors parted slowly. Slowly.

The men moved. Gripping their guns. Nervous fingers hovering on triggers. Injured and unconscious men were dragged towards one end, out of the way. Waiting. Waiting.

* * *

Elizabeth stared in horror. The back-up emergency lights had flickered and lit the gruesome scene beneath her. The Stargate was secure, doused in darkness. But another group of Wraith had made it through before the shutdown. They were gathering at the door. Using some kind of equipment to brutally part the heavy doors. Inch by inch.

"Rodney? Whatever you do you will not restore that ZPM. Copy?"

"Copy that!" Rodney stood clutching the ZPM like a talisman. "Back-up power may resume in about twenty minutes, though. The city may cycle power back to all essential systems in your area. Including the control room and the 'Gate room."

"Wonderful. Do not restore that ZPM until I order you to do so," Elizabeth stated. Clutching her tennis racket like a weapon. "John, what's your status?"

"About to take them out. I think we can trap them in there again and then go in for the kill. On my mark," he said. Calming himself. Almost relaxing since he knew that Moira was safe. Secure. In no danger whatsoever. He let that cold, calculating, ruthless part of himself take over as he gripped his weapon. "No quarter whatsoever," he instructed.

"Um, sir...we're going back in there?" one man asked, voice squeaking nervously.

"Yes, lieutenant. And we're not coming back out until every last one of these bastards is dead."


	4. Chapter 4

Colonization4

"Mark! Now!" John shouted. Grenades flew towards the opening. Gunfire followed, forcing the Wraith back into the 'Gate room. The explosions were deafening. The light flashing so brightly it momentarily blinded everyone. "Go, go, go!" John led the charge into the room, firing his P90 at anything that moved. "Josephes, Barry, guard this and let nothing through!"

John fired, fired, advancing. Ducking, diving as lasers flew. He felt a liquid pouring down one arm, ignored it. He snatched his handgun, fired point blank as he suddenly came face to face with one of the Wraith. Momentarily thrown by its brown eyes he hesitated a fraction of a second. He fired, but the Wraith lashed out. Long nails more like claws cut across his face. He was knocked him across the room. He fell heavily, slid along the floor and barely managed to retain his grasp on his weapon.

He stared at a fallen weapon. It almost resembled a cannon. There was a blinking light on one side. It was blinking faster, faster. A subtle whine could be detected. John's gaze narrowed in thought, suspicion. Realization.

"Sir! Sir, they are accessing the opposite panel!" a marine warned, firing wildy until he was overpowered. He screamed as he was fed upon.

"Sir! Colonel Sheppard, we can't hold them! Sir!" Aaron shouted, firing but the Wraith were advancing slowly towards the doors. Unstoppable. Inexplicably immune to the bullets striking their hard flesh, pinging off their armor. Their toothy smiles chilling. The hatred in their startling human eyes terrifying. "Sir!"

* * *

A barrage of weapons exploded. Elizabeth stumbled backwards as bullets, lasers hit the glass. So far the wall held. She stared at the violent fight beneath her. Bodies moving in murky smoke and darkness. Lights flickering to reveal horrific images of the Wraith. Of men fighting for their lives, for the city.

"What's happening? Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" Rodney demanded, still clutching the ZPM in the darkened room.

"It's not over yet," she said softly. Biting her lip as she could see less and less. Smoke and darkness obscuring the fight from her. "Can you distinguish the Wraith life signs from the men?" she asked, turning to a technician.

"No, ma'am...they are reading remarkably like human, unlike the Wraith here."

Elizabeth replied, "I need teams on each end of that hallway now! Nothing gets out of there! Go! Carson, be ready on the other side of those doors! Rodney, do not restore that ZPM! John, I've got reinforcements! Get out of there! John!"

"Negative! We've got wounded out there! It ends here!" he rasped, moving to his feet. He gritted his teeth as a wave of pain assaulted. "Son of a bitch!" he flared, throwing himself backwards as a Wraith veered up in front of him. Long nails slicing down his chest, ripping through his TAC vest as if it was silk. He whirled, dove. Fired his P90. "Fall back! All positions to the door! Go!"

"Sir, the access panel!" one man shouted.

"Shit! Take them out now!" John ran towards it, leaping over bodies. Nearly falling but catching himself. He fired, fired, ended up swinging his weapon like a club to knock the Wraith out of the way. "No fucking way you are taking my city!" he snarled, slamming his hand onto the panel. It flared, shut down. "They're trying to access the power! That's it! All teams evacuate! Go!"

"What? John, no! You'll–"

"We'll be clear! Go, go, go!" Quickly ushered his men clear, all the while never losing sight of the weapon blinking ominously on the floor. Alone. Untended. Set to overload. "This will be big, so let's not be here for it." He waited until the Wraith were closer to it, closer still. Made sure his men were filing out the parted doors. One by one as they could barely fit.

"Sir! Colonel, roll!"

John ducked, dove. Aaron fired as a Wraith was about to attack, veering out of the smoke like a nightmare. John fired, moved to his feet. "Thanks, lieutenant. Go!" He pushed the younger man through the opening. Took careful aim and fired on the weapon. "Crap," he muttered, easing himself through the opening. But was too late as the explosion erupted.

* * *

Elizabeth dropped her tennis racket. A searing blast illuminated the 'Gate room. Showed her the Wraith being blown to bits in a massive surge of power. Showed her John flying up into the air and through the doorway, out of her view. "John! Oh my God! John! Rodney, restore power! Restore that ZPM now!"

Power flickered. Hiccuped. Flared to life. Lights shone. Alarms resumed their ringing cadence. The shielding fell abruptly over the scene, blocking the 'Gate room from view once more. Consoles hummed with power, were streaming data in a rush.

Rodney ran to the control room. "What's happening? Where's John! John!"

"Down there. I don't know what he did but...'Gate status?"

"Holding. The Iris is holding. Power is restored but it is shut down! John, do you copy?"

"Get the hallway opened! Carson, are you there?"

"Aye! Get these bloody doors open!" Carson Beckett snapped. Medical kit in hand.

* * *

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"

John blinked. Sat groggily. Stared at the young lieutenant's face, uncomprehending for a moment. "Oh. Josephes. Status?"

"Clear, sir. No hostiles emerging. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, sure. Give me a sec." John moaned. Staggered to his feet. "Keep eyes on that door!" He whirled as the door opened down the hallway. Relaxed as Carson and the medical team rushed to them. "Beckett! See to the wounded! Whoever's standing with me! Rodney, status of the 'Gate!"

"John, thank God!" Rodney sagged with relief. "'Gate's shut down. Iris in place. No activity."

"Drop this shield, Rodney! We need to see in there!" Elizabeth ordered.

"On it!"

"Sir! 'Gate room is clear! No activity! Nothing moving!"

"Acknowledged. Let's check it out. Then we wait."

"John! Good Lord, man! Let me–" Carson began to detain him.

"I'm fine!" He smacked the doctor's hand away, turned to see Ronon staggering to his feet. "About time, Ronon. You slept through most of it."

"You are not fine! Let me–" the doctor argued.

"Tend to the wounded, doc! That's an order. With me, those who can. We need to make sure every one of them is dead." He headed for the doors. "Rodney, open these doors!"

"On it!" Rodney's fingers flew. He looked up, joined Elizabeth as the shielding rose on the 'Gate room. As the doors parted allowing John to lead his men carefully into the mess of carnage and destruction. "Wow...we're going to need more than a paint job this time."

"I hope that was the last of it. Monitor all systems. They may try again. As John said, now we wait. Keep the city on lock down. And turn off that damn alarm!" Elizabeth ordered. Flinched as John shot a Wraith that was weakly moving on the floor.

"Exactly how long do we wait?" Rodney asked. Added, "I mean, do we have time for snacks?"

John snorted a laugh. "Yeah, we do. Make mine chocolate, would you, Rodney?"

"Consider it done."

* * *

"Damn it! Try it now!"

Moira touched the controls, grasping. The power flared, died. Fluttered. "Nothing. I'm no mechanic but I'd say this ship isn't going anywhere."

"That's funny. Really." Evan emerged from underneath the console. Wiped a smear of grime off his cheek. "Crystals are fried. And that drive pod is burned out. I was hoping we'd be able to save the ship, but I guess it's not good for anything but salvage now."

"It's a waste of a perfectly good ship," she agreed. Frowning. "So now what? We wait here? For how long? Damn it, Evan, we can easily access the 'Gate!" She jumped to her feet.

"Moira, no! We wait here until Sheppard comes for us! Those are his explicit orders!"

"Don't care!" She marched out of the ship. Across the field, walking carefully over the scarred earth where the ship had stripped away all vegetation during it's violent landing. "Come on! We can at least comm them! Evan!"

He sighed. Followed, wiping his hands on his pants. "Okay, but you are going to face the wrath of Sheppard, not me. And I doubt we'll get through."

"Pessimist. And don't worry. His wrath will be nothing next to mine!"

Evan smiled. Joined her at the DHD. They dialed in unison. Calling up the Stargate Calling up Atlantis. The chevrons lit one by one. Then faded. Silence. Moira stared in consternation at the Stargate. Evan shrugged. "Told you. If the city is still on lock down the 'Gate will be deactivated. Security protocols. We should wait at least a day or two before we try again."

"Damn it," she muttered. "What if...what if they got through? The Wraith...the ATA Wraith?"

"I'm sure McKay was able to lock it down before many got through. Don't worry, Moira. We'll be hearing from Sheppard in no time. Come on. Let's see what we've got to eat. I'm starving!"

* * *

John checked his watch. Wearily stood. Flexed his fingers as he set his P90 down. "Status?"

"No 'Gate activity. Still on lock down. John, it's been three hours now! I think we're past the worst of it. I've activated a new protocol so there will be no more incursions." Rodney sounded frustrated as he sat at a monitor. "You can come out of there now."

"Negative. Give it another hour." John groaned. "Beckett! Status?"

"You need to get to the infirmary, John!" Carson's Scottish accent became thicker as he became angrier. "You're in no shape to do anything right now! I've got the rest taken care of! Two broken legs, one arm, one concussion, one dislocated shoulder. The rest have cuts and bruises. Now get down here!"

"Negative, doc. Not yet." He entered the 'Gate room. Walked around slowly. Marines were clearing it of debris. Dead bodies. Separating the dead humans from the dead Wraith. The intense explosion had caused one wall to implode. A gaping hole marred it, opening it into the next section of the city. The Stargate stood. Unmarked. Silent.

"Sheppard. Look at this." Ronon was pointing down at one of the dead Wraith bodies. His big gun trained on it even though the alien was practically shredded in half.

John walked over, P90 slung casually in his arms. He stared at the Wraith. Noting the differences. The more human aspects of its features. Yet there was an even more intense savagery to them, somehow. The long hair braided in thick plaits. The armor on the torso. Blood and guts strewn across the floor. The fetid stench of death and decay heavy in the air. "What?" he asked.

"There. Look. The hand," Ronon clarified, using his gun to point.

John had been staring at the open, brown eyes of the Wraith. They reminded him of Moira and he shook the thought aside. He directed his gaze to the outstretched arm. To the open hand lying on the floor. To the palm facing upwards. "What the..." John squatted. The palm was bare. Smooth. No sucker protruded. "Where's the..." He checked the other hand. It was equally barren. "How the hell do they feed?"

"It must be elsewhere. Wanna look?" Ronon jested.

John stood. "Hell no. That's Beckett's job. Crap...maybe they evolved past it. Are the others the same?"

"I don't know. I only noticed it on this one. And look at the armor. What is that?" He tapped it with his gun. "Those bullets hardly did any damage on it."

"Some kind of alloy. Metal, but flexible. Who knows?"

"Good thing our Wraith don't have this."

"Yeah, good thing."


	5. Chapter 5

Colonization5

Moira sighed. Put down the binoculars. She stared at the herd of deinotherium as they wandered across the plain below her. The massive beasts bellowed, rending the air. They were huge. Gray-skinned. With tiny ears and large, curving tusks under their long trunks. She smiled, but her stomach twisted with constant worry. If not for her anxiety over John she would have been happy here. She turned as Evan joined her. "Well?"

"Even with rationing our supplies are dwindling. I'm afraid I may have to kill something small for food. Sorry. We do have plenty of drinking water." He scratched at his scruffy beard.

She shook her head. "It's been two weeks, Evan! What could be happening? Why can't we dial into Atlantis? Can they still be on lock down?"

"Apparently they are. I don't think Sheppard will contact us unless he is absolutely certain it is safe for you. He'll probably just show up here one day. He more knows we are stranded here."

"But it's been two weeks!" she repeated. "Evan, what if...what if the city fell?"

"It didn't, Moira. Sheppard wouldn't let it fall. And McKay will find a way to block any incursions. We've all been trained for this. I'm sure the colonel has every contingency plan in place. I'm sorry, Moira. All we can do it wait."

"I'm sick of waiting! Damn him for sending me away! Like I'm no more than a porcelain doll to be put away for safekeeping!" she fumed. Worry resolving itself into anger again.

"I'm sure he's fine, Moira. Maybe he's hesitating to let you cool down for a bit."

"Very funny. Evan, why did he choose this planet?" she asked, as they began to stroll back towards the Jumper.

"It's only accessible by two ATA gene people at once. So it's doubly secure. And the colonel knew you would be happy here."

"Oh." She smiled briefly. But eyed a passing flock of birds. "Damn him. He better get his ass in gear! He's going to get an earful whether he likes it or not!"

Evan smiled. "I'm sure he'd like nothing better, Moira."

* * *

"She's going to give me an earful, that's for sure," John muttered, arms folded across his chest as he viewed the scans. Glanced at the assembled teams waiting for his orders. Lined up along the Jumpers. He looked over as Elizabeth strode to him. "Here we go," he muttered.

"John! Where is Major Lorne? Where did that one ship go? And do you really think it necessary to search each planet where we know an anomaly exists? Atlantis is safe, secure now! It's been two weeks and so far we have had no further incursions."

"Lorne is exactly where he needs to be. As is that ship. And yes. For all we know those Wraith planned a multi-front attack on several fronts. It's our mess and we need to clean it up, because if they did get through they will be heading here, have no doubt of that."

"That's not an answer! You..." Elizabeth frowned. "It's Moira, isn't it? You sent her away?"

"Yes," John answered. "For her own protection. If even one of those Wraith had a trace of that formula on them it could have harmed her." He turned. "You have a go! You have your orders!

Ronon." He watched the Satedan enter one of the Jumpers.

"John! Of course I'm coming with you!" Rodney hastened over, weaving past the marines as they boarded the ships. "John!"

"No, Rodney. This is strictly military. I need you here to safeguard the city. Just in case."

"In case of what? We've suspended all 'Gate activity for two weeks! There have been no more incursions. No energy spikes of any kind and I have programmed protocols to prevent this from happening again! There's no way anything is coming through that 'Gate without our express acknowledgment."

"So you say," John noted.

"Yes, I say! Elizabeth, tell him! You need me on this mission, damn it! Who else can scan for that anomaly and can–"

"Our ships can. Zelenka can. Toshiko can. You are the only one who can safeguard this city," John argued. "Elizabeth, tell him."

Elizabeth looked from one to the other. Shook her head. "I don't believe this!"

"Exactly! He–" John and Rodney said at the same time. They eyed each other. On the brink of a laugh but Elizabeth continued.

"I can't believe you sent Lorne and Moira off to God knows where, wasting one of our ships which we need now! I can't believe you are willing to go off on a fool's errand instead of making sure this city is secure!"

They looked at her. Looked at each other. Both started to speak at once. Stopped. Eyed each other. "I need to secure these planets. Rodney, stay here. Keep the city safe." John strode to the Jumper, boarded it.

"John! You–"

"Elizabeth, what did you expect? I mean, really?" Rodney asked. "I'll go monitor the safeguards."

* * *

Moira stirred. Rolled onto her other side. She was snuggled in John's jacket. She scrunched down in it, touched he had stuffed it into the pack for her. She sniffed, trying to find any trace of his scent, his warmth. Pretending he had just taken it off, had just wrapped it around her. But it was no substitute for the warmth of his arms, the solid comfort of his body. She sighed. Shoved her hands into the pockets. Felt something hard. Something soft. She withdrew one hand to reveal a candy bar. She smiled. Withdrew the other to reveal a pair of lacy flowery panties. "John!" she said softly, amused and annoyed. She shoved them back into the pocket, shaking her head. Missing him even more.

The floor of the Jumper was hard. She pulled a blanket over her. But sat, giving up. She looked over. Evan was asleep on his side. Snoring. She shook her head, envying him his ability to sleep anywhere. She stood. Moved to the front of the ship and stared out the viewport. Proximity alarms were set around the vehicle. Their soft orange lights a dim glow in the velvet night. The sky was studded with hundreds and hundreds of stars. A soft wind was blowing. Sighing forlornly along the grasses.

Things were moving in the dark. Moira procured the night vision goggles. Placed them over her eyes. The landscape became flooded in a green brilliance. She gasped. Animals were moving. Predators hunting prey. Smilodons pursing lithe-footed deer. Owls swooping from trees to catch rodents in their talons. A giant entelodont was stalking on its cloven feet through the brush. Nostrils flaring as it caught sight of something edible.

The alarm sounded. Startling her. She pulled the goggles from her head, whirling. Evan was instantly on his feet, awake. Alert as he powered the ship. "What is it?" he asked, moving to stand beside her. Suppressing a yawn behind one hand.

"I...I don't know...what...oh my..."

Evan followed her line of sight. Directed the ship's lights to cut across the expanse of darkness. "Crap. We better get out of its way. What is that?" The ground was shaking with every footstep of the enormous beast. Even the stalwart Stargate trembled.

"It's...it's an _indricotherium_! A rhino, but without the horn! The largest land mammal to have ever lived! Look at it, Evan!" she enthused. "It's beautiful!"

"Well, beautiful is about to crush us like a bug. Strap in. We need to make an evasive maneuver." Evan lifted the ship. Guided it slowly out of the way of the enormous beast as it made its way right towards them. Oblivious.

"Look at it, Evan! Have you ever seen anything like it? Well, of course you haven't! No one has! No one! It's magnificent!"

"Yeah, and won't it be magnificent if it crushes us? Hang on!" He swerved under it, able to fly the ship between the massive legs of the beast, as if he was flying between two tall buildings. He swerved up, up, and out of harm's way. Turned the ship to view the animal as it made it's way across the plain. "If it steps on the Stargate, Moira, we'll be here forever. With no way home." He hesitated, but powered the weapons.

"Evan! No! What are you doing?" Moira exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Moira, but there's no other way."

* * *

John sighed. Fell heavily onto the bed. Utterly exhausted. Sore. He sank into the mattress, the blankets. Covered his eyes with his hands. He wished Moira was with him. Missing her. Her gentle touch. Her massages. Her kisses. Her laughter. He scowled. But relaxed. He would be fetching her tomorrow. Could imagine her anger but welcomed it. Welcomed anything and everything she would throw at him.

He rolled onto his side. Not bothering to undress. Seeking traces of her warmth, her scent on the pillow. He yanked the blankets down. Shoving his face into the mattress, the sheets. Breathing deeply to capture her scent. The lingering scent of arousal, of sex. Of that sweetness he craved. His hand slid down his thigh, his crotch. Began an earnest rubbing motion as his cock reacted to the scent of her, the whisper of arousal calling to him. He pictured her in his mind. Images of their most sexual, passionate encounters. Recalling her sounds, her cries, the litany of his name over and over as she came under him.

A knock sounded. He froze. Hand freezing on his cock. He freed himself. Snorted in amusement as he felt like a teenager who had just been caught doing something he shouldn't. He could imagine Moira's hilarity over it. Grumbling he swore. Sat and glared at the door. "What?" he snarled.

"I need a word, John. Please." Elizabeth stared at the closed door.

John rose. Snorted back another laugh. He adjusted his pants. Adjusted them again. Swore. Finally yanked out his t-shirt and hoped it was long enough to cover any incriminating bulges. He moved to the door. Opened it. Gestured for Elizabeth to enter. "Make it quick, please. I'm beat." He paused, pursing his lips together as a lewd joke surfaced. "And I am going to retrieve Moira and Lorne tomorrow." He rubbed his eyes. "The planets were secure, as far as we were able to ascertain. No incursions from the anomalies. It appears they only attacked our city, our 'Gate, our anomaly, as it were. Which tells me there was a traitor in that Atlantis. Or someone was compromised, under duress or fed upon, I don't know. Shit, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Yes, a little," she noted. Smiled. He appeared exhausted. Cut and bruised. Clothes rumpled, hair disheveled. Stubble shadowing his jaw. "I wanted to apologize, John. For what I said earlier. About you getting Moira out of the city."

"Oh. Well, thanks."

"Carson explained the danger to me. Her DNA and the formula. The Wraith themselves containing traces of her very genetic code to–"

"Yeah, their Moira, not mine, but yeah. I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk her."

"I wish you had at least informed me of this plan of yours. With Lorne."

"I figured the fewer who knew the better. Just in case."

"In case? In case of what? John, this has to stop," Elizabeth stated, hands on her hips. Her gaze strayed along him, down him, shot up suddenly. Wondered what exactly he had been doing. She glanced at the rumpled bed. Back to him. "First the flash drive, now this! I am tired of all the secrecy! You are withholding vital information and it has to stop! And you have to stop putting..." She hesitated.

"Putting? Putting what? Look, I gave you all relevant files, didn't I? As for the rest any contingency plans I make concerning my wife are my business, no one else's."

"When you are utilizing the resources and personnel of Atlantis it is! John, I don't want to get into this now but you have to stop this."

"Fine, I agree we don't need to get into it. Now if you will excuse me I need to go to bed before I retrieve the resources and personnel of Atlantis!"


	6. Chapter 6

Colonization6

John stepped out of the even horizon, quickly moved to the DHD as the wormhole evaporated behind him. He dragged a wheeled bag behind him, feeling more like a tourist on vacation than an intergalactic explorer fetching his wife and second in command. He smirked. Adjusted his sunglasses. Paused as a group of deer sprinted in front of him. He stared at their protruding antlers stretching back behind their heads. Their spotted beige coats. Flashing white tails. Wondered what their name was, knew that Moira would know. Moira.

He walked across the plain. Noted the deep gouges made by a ship's turbulent landing. Concern made him hasten his steps. He looked round, wondering where the Jumper was parked. It should have been in view of the Stargate, but John did not see it anywhere.

He kept walking.

* * *

Moira was shaking her head. "I told you! I told you, damn it, but you wouldn't listen! There has to be some kind of auditory defense around the Stargate that causes all of the animals to deviate from its path! You think the Ancients weren't aware of the danger of these wonderful mega beasts crushing it? There was no need to shoot the _indicotherium_!"

Evan sighed. Stepped out of the Jumper, down the ramp. "A warning shot only, Moira. Hell, I could have hit that thing dead on and not even caused a scratch! Will you calm down! No harm, no foul. Except now we had to land here and I don't think I can get this bird operational again. Colonel Sheppard is going to kill me."

"With good reason!" she flared, undeterred. "Wait until I tell him how you almost shot one of the rarest forms of wildlife on this planet! Wait until I tell him how you almost crashed us into the animal! Wait until I tell him how you–"

"Enough, Moira, or I will shoot down something just to shut you up!" Evan flared. Met her glare with one of his own. "Look, I know you are worried. So am I! There's nothing we can do. Except wait. Okay? Now stop biting my head off and help me with this drive pod."

She sighed. "Sorry, Evan! I just...damn it, where the hell is John?" she complained. Worry twisting in her stomach like a knife.

* * *

John smirked, hearing the argument even before he finally caught sight of the ship. Of the two people disappearing into it. He wondered at their raised voices. But felt a rush of relief since one of them was Moira. He hastened towards them, but slowed. Staring in disbelief at the wreck of the Jumper. It was leaning heavily on one side. One drive pod was nearly disconnected, a tangle of metal, wires and scorched plating. It was listing like a ship drowning at sea, and John felt a mournful pang seeing the once proud vehicle reduced to this state.

"Hold that! And..." Evan froze. He straightened. Moved past Moira, grabbing his P90.

Moira stared, turning to watch him, the wrench in her hand. "Evan?"

"Someone's out there. No," he caught her arm before she rushed out of the vehicle. "Wait! Wait right here, Moira. We have to be sure it's safe. That it's the right colonel. We have passwords known only to us. Stay here." He stepped out of the ship, gun raised. Walking down the ramp. He paused. "Sir?"

"Major." John slowed. Stopped. Glanced past Evan to the Jumper. Caught no sight of Moira. He looked back at Evan. "It's me."

"How fares the city, colonel?"

John smiled. "It fares well, major. How fares my wife?"

"What's the rule, sir?"

"The rule is no strippers."

Evan smiled. Lowered the gun. Relaxed. "Colonel! It is good to see you, sir! Atlantis?"

"Stands. We're still mopping up and 'Gate travel is restricted. So I've brought fresh supplies. Food. Clean clothes. Other amenities. Now where is Moira? Moira!" he called.

"Moira!" Evan echoed.

Moira emerged. The wrench was still in her hand. She stared. Frozen in place as she took in his appearance. Disordered hair. Stubbled jaw and chin. The black t-shirt molded to his lean, muscled form. Gray pants equally clinging to his body. Boots. He dropped the pack he had been dragging. Removed his shades to reveal healing scratches along his face near his eye. "John?"

"It's me, sweetheart. A little worse for wear, but me. Now, what is it that you can't wait to tell me? That argument carried all over the planet."

"John?" She took a few steps. Dropped the wrench. "John, John!" She ran to him. Met him halfway as he was rapidly advancing towards her. She launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Oh John!"

"Moira! Baby!" he enthused, pulling back to engage her lips in a lengthy kiss.

She pulled back, stared. "You look like hell, sweetie!" She gently touched his scratched face.

"Yeah, thanks for that, baby. You are little ripe," he teased. Gaze wandering avidly over her brown t-shirt, pants. She smiled. "Only a little, though."

"We have a bathing pool. John! Let's go home!"

"A bathing pool?" he questioned, brow raising. He drew her close, nodded as Evan hauled the baggage towards the ship. "Major, care to explain?"

"A secluded pool of water where we could keep relatively clean. I only peeked once, sir."

Moira laughed.

John scowled. "That's not funny, major."

"It is, John. Please! What's–" Moira began to inquire.

"We can't go back yet. Limited 'Gate travel as a precaution. I'm afraid we are stuck here for another day. So I brought–"

"Beer! Thank you, sir!" Evan enthused, looking through the bag.

John smiled. "Beer, yes, and food. And clothes. And soap. Shampoo. A whole travel the galaxy kit, Moira. I'm sorry, it's only another day and night."

She moved free of his arms. Looked through the bag with Evan. "Let's eat! Oh! Lemonade! Thank you, John. Let's eat! Oh! Fudge! Caramel fudge?" She met his loving gaze.

"Yes. As I said. Other, um, amenities."

She smirked. "Come on, Evan! We'll have a proper lunch, then a proper bath! I can't wait to put on clean clothes!"

John stared as she helped Evan pull the baggage up the ramp of the ship. Seemingly dismissing him. He followed, worrying. "Hey! Excuse me, I'm not just Colonel Errand Boy, you know!"

Evan laughed. "Of course not, sir. You can have a beer too."

"Thank you, major." He sat next to Moira who seemed oddly calm. Focused on the food. But he knew a storm of emotion lurked beneath, just waiting. "Moira?"

"What happened in the city, John? What happened to you?"

He talked as they began to eat. "Two waves of attacks. ATA Wraith. Through the Stargate. They somehow managed to override our systems and we couldn't raise the Iris. We repelled them all, killed them all but suffered heavy losses." He scowled a moment, pushed the emotions aside. "Finally had to pull the damn ZPM and shut down the whole city." He saw Evan's stare. "That kid, Josephes, he's fine. Really stepped up to the plate when I needed him."

"He's a good kid, sir," Evan agreed, tension uncoiling.

"Now we are cleaning up a nearly destroyed 'Gate room, courtesy of me," he shrugged, "and have limited 'Gate travel. Lots of redecorating to do." He looked at Moira. She was devouring a sandwich with big bites. "We burned most of the corpses but Beckett kept a few for examination. There's no trace of the formula in any of them, so it's safe for you to come home, Moira. I had to be sure. I had–" He touched her hand but she withdrew from him.

Moira stood. Grabbed the clean clothes, the soap and shampoo. "I'm going to get clean. Is it all right if I go first, Evan?"

"Of course, Moira." He exchanged a puzzled glance with John.

"Whoa! Moira, you're not going anywhere alone." He leapt to his feet, followed Moira out of the Jumper. "Moira!"

"I'll be fine, John. It's perfectly safe. In shouting range of the Jumper now. Didn't you want me to be perfectly safe? Out of the way? Far from you?" she snapped, walking faster.

"Yes! Yes, I did, but not far from me! Moira!" He sprinted to catch up to her. Strolled beside her. "Moy, I know you are pissed but you have to understand. It was the only way."

"Of course it was, John. The only way," she agreed bitterly. Ducking under a low hanging branch with fragrant lilac blossoms. It almost smacked John in the face as he followed.

"It was, damn it!" he argued, following on her heels. He paused. A turquoise pool glimmered in the sunlight. Rich, long grasses lined its banks. Water tumbled over a rocky outcropping into the pool, creating a flashing brilliance. A constant splashing sound. John stared at the sheer beauty of the place. Trailing flowers floated on one side of the pool. "Is it safe?"

"Of course. Perfectly safe. Perfectly fucking safe!" she snarled. Anger radiated from her tone, from every line of her body. She dropped the clothes onto the grass. The shampoo. The soap. Began to strip heedlessly, not caring if he watched or not.

John stared at her. Wanting her. Not surprised at her anger, anticipating it. Welcoming it. Craving it as she dropped her shirt. Her bra. Her pants. Her panties. Even her socks. Walked naked into the water. Disappeared into the turquoise depths. John stepped past her discarded clothing, watching. He licked his lips. Sunlight and water splashed. Sparkling on her bare skin.

Moira floated, paddled. Tensions easing but emotions threatening to overwhelm. She clamped down on them. Stared at John standing frozen on the bank. "John? Could you bring me the soap? I forgot it. And the shampoo!"

He smiled broadly. But was uncertain of her mood. Nevertheless he set his gun to one side. Stripped off his clothes, boots. Grabbed the soap and the shampoo. Walked into the water. Expecting cold he braced himself, but a fission of pleasure erupted as warmth enveloped him.

"Whoa! That...this is wow. Here, sweetheart."

Moira paddled to him, gaze devouring his handsome face, his lean, muscled form before it had become submerged in the water. She took the soap and shampoo, backed away from him and headed for the tumbling waterfall. The water was shallow here, and she stood on the rocks. Water streamed off her body. She began to lather her skin, her hair.

John watched avidly, becoming wildly aroused. Following every motion of her hands as they slid over her bare skin, soaping her arms, her breasts, her back, her legs. Between her legs which made him groan. Her rear which made him grunt in need. John bit his lip, had to look away as he was becoming harder by the second. Hearing the water splash he looked back to see her under the waterfall, rinsing off the soap, the shampoo. "Fuck," he muttered. This was even worse, as water spilled deliciously over her naked body, revealing it to him. He felt a shuddering spasm and bit his lower lip again.

Moira submerged. Swam towards him and suddenly popped up in front of him, startling him. "Hold this." Her voice was breathless. He took the soap, the shampoo, moaned as her hands ran all over him. Fingers tangling in his wet chest hair. Searching gently among bruises and aching muscles. Sliding down his waist. Along his thighs. Stroking his cock suddenly, squeezing the jutting erection until he groaned loudly. "My oh my, colonel," she teased. She kissed him.

Before he could pull her into his arms she pushed away from him. "Don't drop that. Evan will want that next."

"Huh?"

She laughed. Splashed at him and swam towards the shore. He grinned, following after her


	7. Chapter 7

Colonization7

Moira clambered out of the water. Her feet slipping on the long grasses. Dripping wet she coyly swayed her hips, knowing that John was right behind her. Was intently devouring every motion, every sight. She leaned over to grab a towel, heard his moan of pure male hunger, appreciation. She began to wipe herself dry but suddenly he was there. Yanking the towel from her. Dropping it to the grass. Pressing his body to hers as he kissed her shoulder, her throat. Hands sliding up her wet skin to cup her breasts. "John!"

"Moira, oh baby...fuck I have to have this now! Now," he growled, as his cock poked her rear. As his hands slid down to caress between her legs. To woo her opening with gentle yet persistent fingers.

Moira lost her breath. The rush of answering desire, hot. Vivid. "John, oh John! John, um, um, we can't!"

"Can't?" he asked into her ear, voice low, husky. He nibbled, licked until she whimpered. Shifted against him, rubbing his cock as his fingers rubbed, rubbed her cleft.

"Can't...we can't..." she tried to organize her scattered thoughts. "I don't have my pills. I've been off the pill for two weeks now!"

"Ah. Not to worry, sweetheart. I've got you covered." He turned her to him, kissed her passionately. Tongue gliding, teasing, seducing as he guided her body to his again. He moved them up the bank, to their clothes. He freed her to grab his pants. To search in the pocket. He pulled out a square packet. Smiled at her. "I brought a dozen, baby. My Moira..."

She stared. "Oh. Okay."

He smirked. "Okay? Yeah, it will be much more than okay, baby." He pulled her to him, kissed her for a long moment. Guided them to the grass. "Here, sweetheart. Put it on me." He gave her the packet, reclined on his back, waiting. Watching. "So fucking beautiful," he wooed, as her wet hair tangled around her. Dripping water along her bare breasts.

She tried to open the packet. Had to use her teeth, making John groan in even more arousal, in need. She pulled it out, frowning. Brows furrowed. Serious expression on her face making him smile. Feel a surge of love for her. A surge of lust. "Um...how..." She was blushing.

John smiled broadly. "Ah, baby...so fucking sweet. Like a sock, baby, here." He sat. Guided her hands to his cock. Reclined again. "See? On it goes...oh Moira...oh fuck," he groaned, body tightening, tensing in desperate need. It was agony. It was exquisite. The touch of her fingers so gentle, so soft. The sight of her naked, wet body. The serious expression on her face almost making him come prematurely.

Moira frowned again, easing the latex bit by bit. Fingers stroking up and down his cock. Then tugging the latex over him slowly. Kept checking her progress as both frustration and amusement collided. He grinned, enjoying every second of it. "Damn, John, you are too big!"

He laughed with delight. "Damn right, baby. But not too big for your sweet, sweet center. Ah, baby, you are killing me! Get it on, would you? Shit, I'm about to deploy!"

"Fine! You get it on, flyboy!" she flared, embarrassed. She freed him, turned away.

He laughed. Sat and tugged the latex on swiftly. "You'll learn, baby, you will. Repeatedly." He touched her shoulder. Pushed her onto her back and kissed her. Hard. Slid onto her. Kiss after kiss, eager now. But forcing himself to hold back as he craved the taste of her.

Moira arched, whimpered as his mouth moved down her throat. Down to her breasts to lick the water. To suck and suck her nipples until she moaned loudly, straining. Fingers tangling in his hair, slipping free as he moved lower, lower. "John! Oh John, John, please, please, oh John!"

"Moira...fuck, so fucking sweet...I want all of you, every inch," he growled. Mouth running along her thigh as he shoved her legs apart. Breathed deeply of her scent and kissed along her mound. Then delved deeply to tease, to nibble, to gently bite.

Moira cried out, helpless, writhing. Legs parting wider as she lifted, lifted to welcome him, to offer herself to him. As he took and took, creating waves of pleasure. Making her sob, whimper, squirm. "John!" she exclaimed.

As she began to pulse he freed her. Slid up and thrust into her. Groaned loudly, grunting as she enfolded him tightly. Drew him further, further. He thrust, thrust. Grabbing her arms to pin her down. Kissing her lengthily as he took her with aggressive hunger. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he exulted, rocking them harder. Faster. Faster.

Moira kissed him wildly, circled his ear and bit hard. He groaned in pleasure, pain, pounding into her now. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, yelled as the passion rushed to a climax. Orgasms erupted as she tensed, melted. Pleasure throbbing wildly, inundating her. Tears blinded her and she clung to John, rendered inarticulate.

John felt a sudden rush of sensation, vivid, intimate. Realized with a start the condom had broken but he didn't care. Couldn't stop as he came hard, straining and groaning as the sweet release shot out of him. He ejaculated wildly inside her, jerking. Shuddering as the orgasm rocked him, rocked her. Their bodies locked, joined in mutual satisfaction, lust. Her nails scraped down his back as she cried out, writhing violently as another orgasm shook her. He thrust harder, harder, straining until he had thoroughly spent himself inside her. He collapsed on top of her. "Fuck," he croaked.

"John..." she whispered weakly, stroking his back now as his weight pinned her down. As he was still inside her but relaxing, receding. She blinked away the tears of pleasure. Felt a shiver not from the cold but from the sexual release, possession. "John," she repeated.

He caught his breath. "Oh shit," he remembered. Lifted his head to kiss her tenderly. He rolled off her, sliding out of her.

"John?" Moira closed her legs, still feeling him. Every inch of him.

"Sorry, baby, shit." He sat, pulled off the tattered remains of the latex. "It broke. Damn it. I tried to stop but I, um, couldn't. I couldn't stop full, er, deployment."

"What? The condom...the condom broke?" she asked, not quite understanding as she was still reeling from the sexual intensity. The passion. The sight of him as he sat in the sunlight. Water and sweat sparkling on his hair, on his skin. Lining the muscles of his arms. His chest hair. The lean torso.

"Broke. Yeah. Right before I, um, crossed the finish line. With bells on." He met her gaze almost sheepishly. "I...fuck that was intense, Moira! And you...you should be all right, right? I mean, it's only been a couple weeks and..."

Moira stared as at last his fumbling words registered. She sat. "John? John! You...I told you! I told you!" She hit his chest.

"Ow! I know, Moira. It will be fine."

"You son of a bitch!" She hit him again. "I told you! You never listen to me! What if it's not all right? You fucking bastard! I–"

"Hey! Hold up!" He caught her wrists before she could pummel him. "It's all right, Moira! Would it be so terrible if you did happen to become pregnant? Don't you want my child?"

"No! I mean of course I do, damn you, just not now! Not now! You fucking bastard! Let go of me! You fucking, fucking bastard!" She struggled, in tears. "How could you? How could you send me away like that? Just shove me out of the way and make me endure another wait! Weeks of not knowing if you were dead or alive!"

"Moira," he attempted, almost relieved that at last she was letting her emotions, her anger, her fear for him out at last.

"No! You listen to me! You listen! Don't you ever send me away again! Ever! Promise me, John! Promise me!"

He sighed. "Okay, Moira. I promise–"

"No! Do you? Give me your word, John! You never break your word! Give it to me!" She was pissed, desperate. Glaring at him but sorrow broke in waves.

"All right, sweetheart," he soothed. "I give you my word. As your husband. I won't send you away."

She burst into tears, startling him. Suddenly flung herself into his arms, clinging. Crying. "John! John!"

"Ssh, ssh," he soothed, arms enfolding her. He had expected anger but not this overwhelming sorrow verging on panic. He racked his brain, trying to figure out her overreaction. He kissed her brow. Stroking her wet hair, her back. "Sweetheart...Moy...is that what..." he paused, trying to recall the name. "Is that what James did?" he asked gently.

She was silent, sobbing quietly. Clutching. "Yes." Her voice was soft, small. Muffled against his chest.

He considered. "And if he hadn't you think he would have–"

"Yes."

"But you saw him die. You–"

"Yes." She closed her eyes. Calming. Losing herself in his gentle voice. The sturdiness of his hard, warm body. His arms protectively shielding her. His love washing over her. "John."

"Ssh, ssh, all right." He kissed her brow. "I'm sorry, Moira. I'm sorry. Ssh." He gently moved her back a bit. Drew her face up to his and kissed her lips. Softly. A sensual, tender exploration of her mouth. Tasting tears, sorrow. "Let's get dressed. Okay? Let's get dressed and we can talk."

"Talk? You want to talk? You?" she asked, staring.

He shrugged. Smiled as she did. "Yeah, I guess." He dressed quickly, gathered the soap and shampoo and the towel. Moira pulled on her clothes. Silent. Thoughtful. "Moira." He took her hand, led her back toward the Jumper.

"Back already? I thought you two would be at least another...oh oh." Evan paused, joke dying into silence as he saw Moira's upset expression. John's concerned one. "Moira?"

She moved past the two men, entered the Jumper.

John shoved the towel, the soap, the shampoo into the major's hands. "Here. You don't want to know. Give us some privacy."

"Of course, sir."

John watched the other man head for the bathing pool. He entered the Jumper carefully, feeling like he was entering a minefield. He closed the hatch, ensuring privacy. Moira was sitting on one of the makeshift beds. It was no more than a pile of blankets on the floor, but he noticed his jacket neatly folded near her. Marking it as hers. She was staring at nothing, expression full of misery. He ignored the stirring of desire. The echoes of pleasure still slithering along him. She glanced at him, scowled. As if reading his erotic thoughts. As if seeing his sexual hungers. He moved past her, abruptly squatted near to rifle through a pack. "Execute O'Meara," he began without preamble, "is to get you out of the city, at any cost. Code green is to get you here, to Pleistocene Park. The safest planet in this galaxy. Disaster contingencies only known to me and to Lorne. You have to understand, Moy. And give me a loophole here."

"Understand," she muttered almost bitterly. Hugging herself as if cold. Although the planet was quite warm. Balmy even. Her body was tense, anxious, dizzy with pleasure all at once.

"Yes," John agreed. "Understand. As your husband I won't send you away. But as the military commander of Atlantis I will send you away when I deem it necessary for your protection. For your safety. At any cost, Moy. If I kept you with me when I should have sent you away, and something happened to you I'd never forgive myself for my selfishness. I'd never...it would break me, Moy," he tersely admitted. "So allow me the loophole, Moy. I need it. Protecting you is all that matters to me. Even over the city. Moy, you are...you are more precious to me than anything or anyone. So allow me the loophole. Okay?"

She stared at him. His broad shoulders as he still squatted near a pack. His back to her. The long, lean lines of his torso. Water sparkled on the nape of his neck. Trickled along the back of one arm. His firm rear encased in the gray pants. Luring her fingers to grasp, to pinch. Somewhat mollified by his serious words, his low voice. His awkwardness. His love. "It...it's my choice, John," she suddenly noted.

"Yeah. But it's my decision as military commander. You have to accept that, Moy. I need the loophole. I won't break my word to you, but I need the loophole. I need to know I can protect you, keep you safe. Even if it is against your will. Okay?" He was staring at the Jumper's console. The protruding wires, the burnt-out crystals.

She sighed. Heard the tension, the stress. "Okay. Okay, John."

He turned to her. Moved to her and caught her hands in his. "Okay, John? That's it, Moy? Okay, John?"

She nodded. Meeting his gaze. Brilliant green eyes so breathtakingly beautiful. Full of concern, suspicion. Love. A smouldering anger.

"Okay, Moy. Okay. Look, Moira," he looked down at their hands. Fingered her wedding ring. "It will be all right. I mean, I mean odds are against it, right? But if not...I mean if you are pregnant we can deal with it, Moy, so don't you worry. Everything will be fine. I promise."

She felt tears. "John...please..." she whispered.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You were right. I should have waited, we should have waited. But damn it, Moy, I wanted you. I needed you. I've never had a condom break like that, I mean right in the middle of full fucking coitus. Before, yeah, but not right when I was coming and–"

"John–" she interjected, but he ignored her.

"–I couldn't stop, I mean it was a physical impossibility for me to stop right then, right there. If you are pregnant it will be all right. We'll be fine, don't you worry."

"John!" she snapped. Yanking her hands out of his. "Don't! Please!"

He stared. Sympathetic but also pissed at her attitude. He swallowed the feelings, the odd hurt. The seeming rejection of him. "I guess we should have had that particular discussion, huh? And I'm sorry about this, Moy, but I will protect you at any cost. I have to keep you safe whether you like it or not. Moy? Look at me, Moy."

She met his gaze. Sullen. Saw the almost desperate need to be understood, accepted. Forgiven. The simmering anger. "John." She moved into his arms, holding onto his strength. Trying not to break down, dissolve. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

"No. No need," he said gruffly, kissing her.


	8. Chapter 8

Colonization8

Kiss after kiss. John tasted tears, sorrow, worry, love. As Moira's lips opened to his. So soft, so pliable under his. Yielding to his. To the slow insertion of his tongue. To the gentle nibbling. Soft sounds trapped in her throat, tiny moans as she succumbed, succumbed to him. His hands caressing, guiding her body. Causing her to reciprocate, to respond. As he orchestrated each kiss, each sensation. Seducing. He moved her onto her back gently, so gently.

Moira found herself on her back, on the floor. Beneath John. His body on hers, pinning her. Pushing her. Easing her legs apart as he thrust in sexual simulation. Hands sliding up to her breasts. Capturing her mouth with practiced ease. Certainty. She broke from a kiss, tearing her mouth from his. "John?" she asked breathlessly.

"Moira," he said low into her ear. "Let me take it all away from you, baby. All of it. There's only this." He kissed her again. One hand sliding between them to unzip her pants. To probe. Caress. Causing her to squirm, to murmur.

"John? No!" She pushed him. Startled. Enamored. Confused. "John! What the hell are you doing?"

"It's called sex, baby. Don't you remember? Let me refresh your memory. I sure as hell do. Once is not enough, baby, not even close."

"But–"

"Don't you worry, baby, I told you. I brought a dozen condoms, and I doubt one will break again. What are the odds? Besides, if the horse has fled the barn there's no need to lock the gate again, is there?"

She broke from a passionate kiss, nearly biting his tongue in the process. "John! You–" He cut her off with another kiss. Deep. Possessive. Causing her to murmur, to whimper despite herself as he deftly stroked, stroked. Pulled at the panties. Felt them becoming wet as she moved under him. "John!" she protested, turning her head to escape his mouth. "I said no! No!" She shoved.

He eyed her, gaze narrowing. A dangerous glint in his eyes making him even sexier. Hotter. Her heart skipped a beat. "No?" He smiled slowly. Smug. "Women never, never say no to John Sheppard, baby. Never."

She frowned, irritated by his arrogance. "Well, colonel, this woman is. What are you trying to do, John? Make me pregnant?"

He kissed her. "No. I just want sex, baby. Sex with you. I want that luscious Moira climax. I want every sound you make as you come. I want to drown in that gushing, tight pussy of yours, baby, and then take that pert little ass hard." He kissed her again. Fingers sliding into the panties now. Making her gasp, squirm as he probed expertly. "Ah, baby, that's it. That's what I want. I want to fuck that into oblivion," he said hoarsely in her ear. Ran kisses down her throat.

"John!" She pushed, pushed, but he was heavy, so heavy on her. She yanked his hand out of her panties, out of her pants. "Stop it! What the fuck is–"

"Exactly, baby. Fuck." He kissed her again.

She shoved with all of her might, shifting, scrambling out from beneath him. She stood, zipped her pants. Aroused, turned on despite her anger. She was flustered. Hair a wild mess. Body thrumming in response to his. "John! I don't know what the fuck is your problem but this is not going to solve it! Cut it out! You're like Jekyll and Hyde!"

He smiled, rolling onto his side to lazily watch her. Serene. Smug. "Am I? Which do you prefer, Moira? Jekyll or Hyde? Which turns you on? Let me guess...when I hold you down and take you roughly?"

"No! I–"

"Don't you think I can tell?" he mocked. Stood in a fluid motion. Had her in his arms before she could react. He kissed her. "Hmm, baby, is that how you want it? Like this?" He pushed her against the wall. "Or from behind, with that pert little ass just begging me to fuck your sweet–"

She kissed him. A long, passionate kiss. To distract him as his hold loosened. She swerved free. "Damn it, John! Get your shit together!" She strode to the hatch, slammed it open. She strode down the ramp, out of the ship.

Evan turned. He had been at a discreet distance, waiting. "Moira?" he called. Looked past her to John as he stepped onto the ramp. Beer in hand. One arm resting on the wall. "Sir?"

"Hey, Moira," John taunted, unable to stop himself. Unwilling. "I've got my shit together, baby! Unlike you! Yeah, you shake that pert little ass, baby! Just how I like it! So fucking ripe and ready it makes my mouth water! So fucking squeezable my fingers itch to grab it! You know you want it, baby! You know you want a piece of me! There's none better, baby! None! I'm the only one who gives you orgasms to make you weep! Me! I've had that pert little ass and I will again! As often as I want! And I'll have that tight, sweet, moist little center so many times you won't be able to walk straight for a week and I oh oh."

Moira froze. Whirled. Too enraged to be embarrassed. She strode back towards the Jumper.

"Shut up! Get your ass into that ship! Go! Now!" she ordered stridently.

John smirked. Sipped his beer, eyes locked on her. But he backed up the ramp, into the ship.

"Moira!" Evan caught her arm, halting her. "What the–"

"He's deflecting again, the bastard! Don't worry. I'll straighten him out!"

"I don't think you should go in there," Evan advised, baffled by the pair of them.

"I'll be fine, Evan. He's the one you should be worrying about, not me. He's just pissy again. He'd never hurt me. Never. Trust me." She entered the ship. Closed the hatch. Glaring.

John was sprawled on the back seat. Long legs outstretched, spread to reveal his crotch in the tight pants. The bulging arousal. He was sipping his beer. Smug. Expectant. He looked her up and down. "Knew you'd be back, baby. Knew you couldn't resist this." He smiled. "No woman can. Not even you, Moira. Not even you." He sipped some beer, assessing. She was still glaring at him. "Well? What's keeping you, baby? I'm here for the taking. Or rather you are. I'm done, Moy. Done! I'm not apologizing. Not for wanting to have sex with you. Repeatedly. I already apologized for all that other stuff. No more! I'm sick of bending over backwards for your every little melodrama. I've had enough of it, Moy. Enough! Reign in that Celtic temperament of yours, baby. Or at least turn into kinky sex. Got it?"

"Okay, John."

"Okay, John?" He snorted. "That again?"

"Yes. You want me to tell you what's really wrong? What pissed you off, John?" She sat next to him. Grabbed the beer and sipped. Grimaced at the taste. Restored it to his hand and touched his thigh.

He sipped some beer. Eying her. "You. Not wanting to have sex with me," he sulked.

She inwardly sighed. "John, John, I always want to have sex with you. Repeatedly. Just not here, that's all. So it's not that. You know how much I love you, desire you, long for you and your magnificent ordnance. So?"

A smile came and went on his lips. He sipped his beer. Offered it to her. She shook her head. He sipped some more. "Oh yeah, that's right. You might be pregnant. But you don't want my baby, do you? The very thought repulses you."

"Of course it doesn't! That again? John, we've discussed this. I do want your...your baby, but not now. All right?"

"Really? Am I supposed to believe that when we haven't even discussed it! When you can barely say it! Barely say the words baby, or family, or child. Why?"

She looked away from his angered gaze. "I...I just don't want one now is all, all right?"

"No." He leaned towards her. "That doesn't answer my fucking question, Moira! Why can't you say it? See? You don't want my child. Oh, I'm good enough to fuck and fuck and fuck until you think you are going to die beneath me but not good enough to carry my–"

"No!"she flared. "I do want it, John! Just not now! Why can't you get that through that thick skull of yours! Not now! And...and...you really want to know?"

"Yes!" he snapped, losing patience.

"Because I know I won't be a good mother!" she blurted. Blushed. Stared at her hands. "I'm not rejecting you, you stupid man! I'm rejecting me! Okay?"

"No. It's not okay," he said, somewhat mollified. "Of course you'll make an excellent mother, Moy, I mean, come on! Now me...I don't know if I'll be a good father."

"Of course you will, John, please, don't be ridiculous! I...damn it, John, I'm a scientist! I'm not the, the mothering type." He quickly smiled, but she continued, staring at the floor. "Not every woman feels the need to reproduce and propagate the already overpopulated Earth with offspring! I have a career! A job I was pretty damn good at! I never wanted children. Not even the, the first time. I mean, James and I had decided. We were dedicated to our careers and didn't have time for that kind of thing. I knew I'd be terrible at it, I just knew. But, but, that being said...I, I am in love with the idea of a mini John Sheppard running around Atlantis. Just, just not now. Not now with everything in chaos and we just got married and there's so much work to do and I just can't, can't–"

He lifted her face to his. Kissed her, cutting off her rising sorrow, panic. "I understand, Moy. I do. Truth is, I never wanted kids either...not earlier, I mean. Nancy and I were devoted to our respective careers, our jobs. There wasn't time. And truthfully...I didn't want kids with her." He looked away from her, uncomfortable. "Truth is...I never loved her. But you...I love you, Moira. I want kids with you. But there's certainly no rush."

Moira was staring at him. "John? You...you didn't love her? But you married her. Why?" He was silent. Staring at nothing. She knew not to press. Touched his arm. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't know this was, was bothering you that much."

He met her gaze, grateful for her reprieve. Not prying into what he had inadvertently revealed. "It was," he admitted. "Shit. All that fucking melodrama over it. Your reactions. They threw me, Moy, that's all." He drank more beer.

"I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Or give you the wrong impression. I...I'm sorry. I've been so wrapped up in this...you must be devastated by what happened in the city. The loss of your men. I know how keenly you feel each one. Is, is there anything else bothering you, honey? You can tell me anything."

Her love, her understanding relaxed him. Her sympathy. "I...I brought you caramel fudge and you haven't even tasted it," he said at last.

She smiled. "I will, believe me. And I'm not sharing. Well, with you, I guess. Colonel Errand Boy. But not with Evan." He smiled briefly. "So...is that it? Tell me, John, please."

"I...I'm sorry, Moy. I'm pushing you away again."

"I'm still here, sweetie. Still here. I'm surprised you haven't taken to the hills by now, actually," she jested, causing him to smirk. "You can't scare me that easily, John. I've faced the wrath of John Sheppard more times than I can count. Just as you have endured the storms of Moira O'Meara. So?"

"Storms? More like fucking monsoons," he laconically noted. "Damn, baby."

"Damn, sweetie. I'm sorry." She touched his face. Touched the scratches gently. Kissed his lips tenderly. "So? John?"

He hesitated. Debated. Licked his lips as he glanced around the Jumper. "I'm...I'm fucking it up, Moy. Like I always do. I, I can't seem to help myself," he dourly explained. "I have to sabotage it. I can't leave it alone. I can't be happy, and with you I've been so happy, so at ease, Moy. I can forget all that darkness for days, weeks. And then I feel guilty, so I....I have to...I can't let myself be too happy. Because I'll lose it. I'll lose you. Better to let you go now on my own terms then to lose you later. I....shit!" He downed the last of the beer. Rubbed his eyes. Head in his hands as he leaned over, as if he could hide from her. "Moy, I know. I know it's going to end so I need to end it on my own terms. So I fuck it up real good, real good, so there's no going back, no way to get back all of this." He straightened, dropping his hands to his lap. Met her worried, loving gaze. Lost himself for a moment in the depths of her brown eyes. "Moira...I think...I think we should get divorced."


	9. Chapter 9

Colonization9

Moira stared. Taken aback. Frozen for a moment. His voice had been low, serious. Gaze intense, solemn. Pain sparking in his brilliant green eyes as the words came out of him. She sighed. "John, don't be such an ass!"

"Huh?" he asked, startled by her reaction.

"You don't have to jump to the extremes! I'm not going anywhere, colonel. I told you, I don't scare that easily. You're not getting rid of me that easily, John, no. I will fight you every step of the way."

He smiled. "I believe that you would, Moy."

"I would. I will. John...I gave up. I gave up on ever being with someone again. Of ever being happy like this. I knew it wouldn't happen. Just a brief, brief...but when I did become involved they always, always dumped me. Kicked me to the curb when I gave my heart, my trust. So I stopped. Stopped giving them. Just stopped. It was better that way. I was protected and no one would...would die. But then I...I met this man. This gorgeous, gorgeous lieutenant colonel who was so smart. And a smart-ass. And funny. And he seemed to be interested in what I did, what I thought, what I had to say. Although I suspected at the time he was only interested in getting into my pants. And he was obsessed, absolutely obsessed with my pert little ass, of all things!"

John snorted in amusement, listening to her every word.

"I'd heard about him, of course. This lieutenant colonel. Unbelievably handsome. The suave charmer. The flirt. The ladies' man. With his lots some women. But I discovered there was quite a complex man underneath all of that. A good man. A pain in the ass to be sure, but a loyal man. A man I could trust. A man I could love, if he'd only let me. If he'd only let me in. A man who understood the darkness, the guilt, the pain locked away because he had the same demons to fight. There was so much more to this man than his gorgeous, jaw-dropping looks. More than his incredible passion and sexual skills. So much more. I fell in love with him. Like I'd never fallen in love before...and he...he loved me back, like I'd never expected. He let me in slowly, carefully. Step by step. As I let him in. So...here we are. Married. I never saw that coming, and I don't think he did either. So?"

John was drinking in her words, her love. Her teasing and sincere affection. He watched her. "You forgot about the orgasms. Every fucking time," he reminded quietly. A smirk teasing his lips. Making his eyes sparkle.

She met his gaze, smiled. "Oh! Right, of course! I couldn't forget that! I didn't want to dwell on the sexual pleasure...it's almost, well, indescribable! But yes, every time an orgasm! Usually multiples. Sometimes," she whispered in his ear, as if confiding a secret, "even a double. I thought I was going to die! And once, once...a triple! I've never felt such intense sexual pleasure in my life! And then, and then there's the wall...oh my God! The wall! Or the table! We are breaking the fucking headboard with sex! With sex! Can you believe it? And then, then there is Sheppard's delight! Oh my!"

John laughed, unable to resist any longer. He turned to her. Kissed her. Ran his fingers through her hair. Slow, long kisses as his mouth guided hers. Enchanted hers. "My Moira...my own sweet Moira," he wooed into her ear. Kissed down her throat. "Why do you put up with me? The real me, not the one everyone else sees."

"Easy, sweetie. I love you. The real you. And you put up with me."

He smiled. "That I do." He kissed her. "Moira."

"And I'm not just saying that to get into your pants, colonel," she teased. Kissing him. Nibbling his throat. Circling his ear. Gently biting.

He groaned, pulling her closer. "Moy? I thought you didn't want any more sex?"

She sighed. "I know...I...I want you, John. I want to comfort you. My John." She kissed him. Gently ran kisses along the scratches near his eye. Her hand caressed his thigh sliding up, up to stroke. She pulled back as hi hand ran up under her shirt. Under the bra to grasp a breast.

"Moira, sweetheart...are you sure? I've got a condom. Well, several, actually."

"Yes, you've told me in your own charming way, several times," she noted. Kissed him. "John...oh John..." She moved to her knees on the floor. Pushed his thighs apart and moved between them. "Jo-hn," she teased, fingers running up his thighs. She kissed him, tilting her head up to reach his mouth as he leaned towards her. He groaned as her fingers plied him, aroused him. She undid his belt. Unbuttoned. Unzipped. Slid her hand in to grasp, to caress. She smirked. "I have to say, colonel, these are really, really cute boxers."

"Hush! Not a word, baby, or I will take every pair of panties you own and you will have to go commando. Hmm...maybe I should anyway. Oh God, that feels good, so good," his voice devolved into a growl as her nails ran up and down the hardening length of him. "Moira?" He moaned in surprise, response. Staring as she opened his pants. Began to run her mouth along his cock still trapped in the blue material decorated with little trains.

Moira freed him. Smirked. "Choo choo, sweetie."

"Moira! I said oh God oh baby," he groaned as she ran her mouth along him again, soaking the shorts in saliva. She grasped the head, pressed her lips over it. Sucked. He jerked, swore. Abruptly thrust towards her.

She freed him. Slyly stroked. "That is one big engine car you have there, sweetie. A fine engine and your caboose isn't bad either."

He laughed. "Moira! Here!" He searched his pockets, produced a square packet. Gave it to her.

She took it. "Hmm...John...I could just bring you like this. Well, a hand job with some moderate sucking. So?"

He stared, captivated as she tilted her head. Licked her rosy lips. Her brown eyes warm. Full of love for him. Her voice serious. "No," he decided, voice husky with arousal. "I want full intercourse, baby. I want to come in you. With you. I want to pleasure you, sweetheart."

She kissed him. Sat back. Tore the packet open with her teeth, making him groan. He licked his lips slowly. She kissed him again, nibbling his lower lip as he caressed her side. Her breasts suddenly. Inserting his tongue into her mouth. She murmured, whimpered to excite him. Entice him. John groaned into her mouth as he was suddenly free, her fingers stroking his bare cock. Nails running up and down, up and down. A gentle squeeze. A harder squeeze, making him grunt, spasm. So hard now, so tense. Her mouth freed his, tugging his lip, tugging as if she would bite but refraining. At the same time she was sliding the condom slowly over his cock. Onto the jutting length. Her mouth moved to his ear. Circling. Circling. "Oh John, oh John," she wooed hotly, heightening the eroticism, the sexual tension. She whimpered in his ear, knowing he'd get turned on even more. She nibbled his throat. Once the condom was on she freed him. Stood. Removed her shoes. Her pants, her panties. "John? Are you, um, are you sure it won't break? We're being reckless, sweetie."

John was staring, aroused. Hungry for her. Wanting her. Gaze devouring her bare legs. Her bare rear as she turned away to slide down the panties. "It won't, baby, please. If I feel it I will pull out before full deployment." She turned to him as his gaze locked on her crotch, on the triangle of curling dark hair before she suddenly straddled his lap. He straightened, catching her. Steadying her. Lifting her and thrusting into her.

"Oh John!" she exclaimed breathlessly, arching, tensing. "John! John, are you sure?" She grasped his shoulders to support herself.

"Yes, baby, trust me."

"Okay, John." She kissed him. Began to gyrate as she moved up and down, up and down. Faster. Faster. She whimpered as the pleasure spiraled, the cycle of passion beginning. "Oh John! Oh John that feels so good, so good! Oh John, John!" she enthused softly, breathlessly.

He kissed her, hands on her hips, then her rear. Squeezing, guiding her. "Ah baby...oh Moira...fuck, fuck, fuck, er fudge, fudge, fudge," he corrected. Thrusting up, up, moving her faster and harder to accommodate him.

"John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, trying to keep quiet but her voice rose in volume, in pitch as the orgasm blossomed. She arched, strained, squeezing on him to keep him in place, to keep the sexual friction rushing, rushing between them. She leaned back. Her feet slid on the floor. Socks catching on the blankets.

"Fuck! Fuck, er fudge!" he growled, not bothering to lower his voice. Not caring as he thrust harder, harder. Faster. He came quickly, jerking inside her. He held her so she wouldn't fall.

"John!" She straightened, arms sliding around his neck. Kissing him eagerly. Riding him hard, harder as he groaned. A burst of pleasure, of release making him grunt with enjoyment. "Oh John! John!" she cried.

"Ssh, baby, ssh, oh fuck that is sweet!" he growled, straining. Shuddering as the orgasm rocked him. Rocked her as she moaned. He paused, but felt secure. Still covered by the condom. He thrust harder, deeper. Letting go. Letting all of it go. The emotion. The stress. The anger. The worry. There was only this. Only Moira riding him, giving him everything he wanted, needed.

Moira moaned, whimpered. Stuttering waves of sound evincing her pleasure. Still rocking, still moving. She lost her breath, as John lifted her, set her down as he slipped out of her. She fell against him, clinging. Catching her breath. "John! Oh John!" she enthused happily. All of the strain, the argument, the confessions swept away by this.

"Baby...that was so sweet. So fucking sweet," he agreed. He gently scooted her back, checking. "Condom intacto, baby. Don't you worry."

She kissed him. "You can pull it off, then. Ew!"

He laughed. "It's doubly wet, baby. Are you sure?"

"Yes!" She squirmed on his lap, kissed him again. Again. "Oh! Shit!" She scrambled off him, pulled on her panties, her pants. "Evan! Do you think he heard us? Heard me? Damn you make me so loud, John! I can't control myself when we reach exuberance over and over! Do you think he heard me? Heard you? You were grunting like a male in heat, sweetie! I've never been this loud during sex," she began to analyze, voice serious as she tried to arrange her hair. "I mean not like this. Not like I am with you. I suppose your lots some women were loud, but then again you were always so discreet maybe not. Maybe it's just me. Were you loud with your lots some women, John? Or are you just loud with me? John? John!" She looked at him.

John was trying so hard not to laugh, tears in his eyes. He finally succumbed, laughing heartily. Shaking. Leaning over as the hilarity escaped him. "Ah Moira! Moira! You fucking kill me, baby, you kill me!" He calmed, still smirking. Pulled the condom off him. Shot it into the makeshift trash can across from him. "Two points."

"John! Cover it up!" She scrambled, gingerly touched it. "Ew!" He laughed heartily as she covered it with the other trash. "Damn it! Why is everything funny to you now? What are you trying to do? Advertise it?"

"Yeah. But you already did, baby." He tucked himself back into his shorts. Fastened them. Fastened his pants and belt.

"Shut up, John! It's not funny!" She stood, gathered her hair into an efficient ponytail. "Damn it! It's not funny, John!" she repeated, seeing him laughing quietly, trying to conceal it. She smoothed down her clothes. Had to reach under her shirt to fix her wayward bra. Glared at his amused stare. "Stop it! Don't look so damn smug! So damn satisfied!"

"But I am. Smug. Satisfied. Very. You are so fucking beautiful when you are flustered, Moira. And you come beautifully too."

"John! Behave, colonel! You and your ordnance both!" She opened the hatch. Strode down the ramp. Felt a blush vivid on her cheeks. The pleasure still vibrating in her body. So intimately. "Evan? Evan, we're done." She scowled, hearing John laughing. "We're done talking! Talking!" she clarified.

John moved to stand behind her. "Yeah, we finished talking. Then had a delicious fudge, didn't we, Moira? Hmm? You know what they say, major," John continued as the other man came into view, approached the Jumper cautiously. "If the Jumper's rocking do not come knocking!"

"John!" She flared, elbowing him as the two men laughed. "Evan! Men!" she swore. Yelped as John suddenly squeezed her rear. Playfully swatted. "John!"

"We are married, baby, so hush! We had some things to work out, major. And well, one thing led to another, and to another, and to another...and then to sex." He grinned proudly.

"John Sheppard!" she flared, whirling to punch his arm. The men laughed. She whirled. "Evan Lorne! God, I hate men!" She stormed past them. "I'm going to study some more evolved life forms! Why don't you two find something less hilarious, say, like fixing the ship?"

"Yeah...what the hell happened to this ship, major?" John asked sternly. "Moira! Don't go far!"

"Well, sir...it was a rough ride. As you've no doubt seen McKay's hyperdrive system is completely fried. We had one hell of a landing. Had to fly out of the way of a...a..."

"An _indocotherium!_" Moira shouted over her shoulder.

Evan smirked. "What she said. But I don't think she'll fly again, sir. The one drive pod is completely shot. And all secondary systems have crashed."

"Wonderful," John muttered. "Well, we have a day. Let's see if we can salvage this thing."


	10. Chapter 10

Colonization10

Moira grabbed another blanket. She shivered. Night had fallen, and it was surprisingly cold. A wind whipped around the ship. Rocking it ever so slightly as it was perched at a peculiar angle. Listing to one side like a wounded beast. She looked towards the front of the Jumper. Evan and John were at the controls. Fiddling with crystals and wires. Muttering to each other and themselves. Power flickered. Lights dimmed. Resumed.

"The proximity detectors are set, sir. That's still working at least. As long as we leave the outside lights on we should be secure."

"Good. I don't want to be squashed like a bug. Try this."

Evan took the proffered crystal. Inserted it. The console hummed. Faded. "No. I think that the hyperdrive drained all the power from the ship. I'll doubt she'll fly again."

"She will, major. Have no doubt. I can get her up and running and to Atlantis. Probably."

Moira joined them. "You really think you can fix this–" She touched the panel. Power flared. She withdrew her hand, startled. John and Evan stared at her. "What did I do?"

"I'm not sure, but do it again, Moira."

She touched the console. Power hummed. "John?"

He touched it, hand next to hers. More power flared. "Ah. Interesting. It's reacting to you. To me. To our combined ATA gene."

"That's odd, sir, because when we were working on it earlier, Moira and I did not encounter this kind of energy surge."

"Before I arrived?" John asked.

"Yes. Is that significant?" Evan asked.

"Oh shit," Moira whispered. Withdrew her hand. Worriedly met John's abruptly warm gaze. "No, no, it could be anything, John! It responds to emotion, right?"

"Yes," he soothed, but he couldn't help his quick glance at her abdomen. Wondering. "Among other things . Thoughts. The gene. Hmm."

"Am I missing something, sir?" Evan asked, looking from one to the other. They seemed to be locked in a silent, terse dialogue.

"No, major. Not a thing. Close up that panel. I think we can fly her but it will be a near thing." John turned back to the console. "I'm shutting down all but the primary systems. Give her a good rest. Tomorrow we will hammer on that drive pod and see how it goes. I hate to leave this ship behind. If we can't restore her we could at least scrap her for parts. And I'm sure you don't want this left behind on this pristine planet. Not to mention the sub-Wraith. Which you never have mentioned, by the way. Major?"

"We haven't encountered any of them, sir. Not a one," Evan rejoined. Shrugged.

"Moira? Theories?" John turned. Moira was snuggled in the blankets again.

Moira shoved the disturbing thought aside. Touched her abdomen. Drew her hand away quickly. "Um, huh? Oh... the sub-Wraith? No idea, John. We haven't seen a one. But we haven't gone that far from the Stargate either. John, come to bed."

"Uh, sir...I...um, I can sleep up here," Evan offered awkwardly.

"Evan! Don't be silly! We're just going to sleep!" Moira objected.

"We are?" John teased. Turned to her. Raised a brow.

"Yes, John! Cut it out!" She shot him a dirty look. Reproving. "John!"

He sighed heavily. "Coming, your worshipfulness. You can sleep back there, I guess." He moved towards Moira as she reclined on the blankets. Pulling a few over her. "Moira." He stretched out next to her. Kept her close to the ship's wall. She pulled the blankets over them.

"Um, I could always–"

"Pretend it's a camping trip, major. Like we did on M1K436. Except there were a lot more of us," John reminded.

"Yes, sir. But Moira had the front of the ship all to herself."

"Ah. That's true." John relaxed, as Moira snuggled against him. His arm went around her. "We'll be fine, major. Plenty of room. I'll contact Atlantis tomorrow and with any luck we can go home." He kissed her brow. "Go to sleep, Moira," he said quietly. "I'm here. Either way we'll be fine," he whispered in her ear. Kissed her throat.

She smiled. Closed her eyes, snuggling into his warmth, his solid security. "John."

* * *

A noise. John was instantly awake. Eyes open. He sat, freeing Moira. He looked around the darkened ship. Saw Evan in the front of the Jumper. John carefully scooted out of the blankets. Moved to the pilot seat. Sat. "Anything?"

"No, sir. I couldn't sleep. Do you mind, sir?" Evan held up the beer bottle he had been nursing.

"Not at all. Grab me one, would you?"

As the men sat silently, drinking companionably Moira stirred. She sat, missing the warmth, the solidity of her husband beside her. She stared at the front of the ship.

"Look, um, major. I know this might be a little awkward but it's only for a night. Two at the most, but probably just one. And Moira will insist we behave."

"It's awkward, sir, but I'll adjust."

"Good. Just remember, if the Jumper's rocking..." They laughed quietly.

"Got it, sir."

"I've always wanted to ask you, Lorne...about Moira."

"Sir?"

"It's all right. Let's drop rank for a few. Talk man to man. Just two guys drinking beer on an alien planet."

"Okay, sir," Evan shrugged. Tense.

John smiled. "I'm just curious, that's all. I won't get mad or anything. After all, Moira's mine now. In every sense of the word. So...tell me...how could you not hit that?"

Evan nearly spit out the mouthful of beer. Swallowed, choking slightly. "Sir? Er, Sheppard?"

John smirked at the other man's reaction. "Seriously. Moira. How could you not hit that? Or at least try to? Don't tell me you weren't attracted to her. Or that you didn't notice her, um, assets when she bends over, or walks fast."

"Oh, I noticed," Evan agreed. They shared a laugh. "I mean, how could I not notice, sir. Um. And yes, I, I, um, was attracted. Initially. But she's a member of my team. I t wouldn't have been appropriate. And I value her friendship."

"Ah. Still, there are ways round that. I mean she could have been reassigned. If you had somehow gotten together."

"I guess. But no. It never happened."

"Did you want it to happen?"

Evan shrugged. Saw John's friendly demeanor, but his gaze was assessing. Reading the other man like a book. "Um, yeah, I guess. But we're better off as friends."

"Ah. She gave you that speech, did she?"

"Um, yeah. And she was right. She didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone like that. She wouldn't say why but she was quite adamant about it. Apologetic, even."

"Ah." John nodded, knowing exactly why. Her past. "Is that why you tried to warn me off her?"

"Yes, partly," Evan admitted. "And because I was looking out for her. I just couldn't see you two, um, together. For more than...you know..."

"Ah." He sipped some beer. "Things moved beyond what either of us expected. I suppose Moira would say it just evolved."

"Well, you got past her defenses somehow, sir."

"And she got past mine. I blame that pert little ass." The men laughed. Drank. "Seriously, Lorne, you didn't even once try to hit that?"

"I tried, Sheppard, but she wouldn't–"

"John Sheppard!"

"Oh oh." John looked back as did Evan. "Um, hey Moira. We were just–"

"Bonding over my ass? How nice," she acerbically noted. The men laughed. "It's not funny!"

"Sorry, Moira. We meant no disrespect," Evan soothed.

"It's all right, Evan. You–"

"What's this? I get all the blame now?" John asked, feigning indignation.

"Yes. You and your questions, your comments," she clarified.

"Ah. And my fondness for your pert little ass? Guilty as charged, Moira. I still blame that pert–"

"John! Shut up! Come back to bed! I'm cold!"

"As ordered." He exchanged a glance with Evan. "Maybe you had better sleep up here."

"John! It's not funny! Evan, you can sleep back here. Don't listen to him!"

"I don't know, Moira. It might be safer up here." The men laughed.

John moved to her. Reclined next to her under the blankets. "Get on top of me, baby. Damn this floor is hard."

"That better be the only thing," she muttered, making him snort with laughter. She slipped on top of him, nestled as his arms enfolded her. "Go to sleep, flyboy."

"As ordered, your highness. In my defense I was just curious."

"Shut up, John."

"You should be flattered, Moira."

"Flattered? Gee, it's really flattering to overhear two guys discussing hitting that, yeah, that's real flattering." The men laughed. "Shut up, both of you! Are you drunk? Damn it!"

"Drunk with love of you, my Moira," John noted.

"Hilarious, John!" She sighed. "You know, it's too bad we can't stay here. I mean I could stay here awhile. To study. Now that I know you are safe. Unhurt. That Atlantis is fine. I could stay for a month, working here. I know you can't but maybe, just maybe you could, John? I mean, a sort of mini-vacation after saving the city and all? John?"

"You told me to shut up, Moira."

Evan laughed. "That she did, sir."

Moira smirked. Kissed him. "Oh. Right. Goodnight."

"And no. At least not now, Moira. Maybe later. We'll see. Go to sleep. Three is definitely a crowd," John sighed. Closing his eyes as he relaxed.


	11. Chapter 11

Colonization11

Moira stood. She was in the security-controlled inner Wraith laboratory, although the door was open, giving access to the outer room. She hugged herself, staring in awe, in horror, in fascination at the dead body on the table. At the dead ATA Wraith staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. With brown, human eyes. Her eyes. She found that the most disturbing. Knew that John probably had as well.

Carson moved next to her. "Incredible, isn't it? The differences. The similarities. The same species, but not the same species. What would you call that, Moira?"

"Huh? Oh...convergent evolution. Except this has been bio-engineered. The ATA gene." She shuddered. Stepped closer to peer down at the face. The vicious expression. Long, sharp teeth locked in a death grimace. The long, braided hair. The pale skin. The elaborate tattoos lining one side of the face, up around the eye. Dark swirls and patterns.

"You haven't seen the most remarkable part. Look at the hand," Carson instructed.

Moira flexed her hands, ensnared in rubber gloves. She turned the hand over to view the palm. Gasped. Stared. Met Carson's gaze. She checked the other hand. "There's no sucker! How do they feed?"

"I have no idea. Only that they do feed. They fed on two of our own. We haven't located the sucker yet, but I've only had time for preliminary examinations. The facial mutations are quite pronounced, despite the fact that they appear more human. The real story is in the tissues. The molecular changes which are quite startling, even with the ATA gene aside. These creatures, Moira, are unlike any Wraith we have found here so far."

Moira nodded. Prodded the arm muscle. "Well, there must be a sucker somewhere. Carson, do you remember when you postulated that the Wraith digest food with their human organs when they are young?"

"Aye, I did. Until puberty hits and they evolve into a more fully developed Wraith. With their own feeding activities. It makes sense, actually, hormonal levels changing, rising, altering their development. Why do you ask?"

"I've been thinking about the enzyme and its own evolution. Its effect on–"

"Moira Sheppard!"

Moira dropped the arm she had been holding. Startled. Whirled as did Carson. John was striding to her. Anger on his handsome face. "Um, hey John. I was just–"

"Don't you dare hey John me!" he flared. "What the hell are you doing near that?" He grabbed her arm, led her to the outer lab.

"John! I was–"

"Don't care!"

"John, she's perfectly safe," Carson soothed, wondering at the colonel's violent reaction. "There's not a trace of the virus or the formula. That's the first thing I checked."

"Don't care!" he repeated, still holding her arm. "They still have strands of her DNA! I told you, Carson, she was not to go near the damn thing! Not even tissue samples!"

"John!" Moira protested, freeing her arm. "I'm fine! There's no danger! Let me do my job!"

"Are you sure there's no danger? Especially now since we are waiting to see if you are..." he caught himself before blurting the word. Glanced at Carson. "Doesn't matter. You are not to be involved in this research except via computer. That is a direct order!"

She frowned. "You are being ridiculous, colonel! You can't just order–"

"Oh, I can, doctor. This falls under my purview. I need you to translate that entire data burst. The one in Gaelic," he clarified.

"No."

"No?" He raised a brow, half amused, half irritated.

"I said no. Not unless you let me do my job, John. There's no danger. None."

"But if you are–"

"There's still no danger!" she insisted. "Carson needs my help on this. I'm perfectly safe. I'll translate after this. Okay?"

"No. It's not okay, Moira." He drew her across the room. "You will work here. No tissue samples. And no contact at all with that thing! Is that understood? I'll post guards to enforce this, Moira, if you push me on this. Or I'll send that thing to the Alpha site and burn it like we did all the others. Your call."

She stared. "John! You have no right to–"

"All right, colonel. I'll make certain Moira stays clear of all viable samples."

"Carson!" S he glared at him. "I'm perfectly safe! You said so yourself! Let me do my job!"

"Would it make a difference if she was–" John began to ask.

"John, no!" she almost shouted, whirling to face him. "Please!"

"Then do as I say, Moira. Or I will ask that question." He hated playing hardball, practically blackmailing her to do as he wished, but he saw no other option.

Moira fumed. Tense. "Fine! I'll be way over here!" She stomped to the farthest side of the room. Stood with her back to the men, glaring at the computer screen.

"John, there really is no need to–"

"There is. I'm not risking a hair on her head. Keep her out of there!" He moved to Moira. Touched her shoulder. "Moira," he began, voice gentle.

She flinched, body stiffening. "You are being ridiculous! You are being overzealously protective again! He, he said you'd be like this. Wouldn't let me do my job! Not that he thought I might be...be...you know...but still he knew you'd wrap me so tightly in your grasp that I couldn't breathe."

"The colonel? Well, that's just wonderful," he acerbically noted. "I don't care whether you like it or not, Moira. You are not to touch that body or any tissue samples. That is a direct order."

"Yes, sir," she said tersely.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll need to see you in an hour for that translation." He glanced at Carson. Strode out of the room.

Carson shook his head. Moved to Moira. "Sorry, love. Believe me, it is perfectly safe for you. I wouldn't let you near it otherwise. But you heard the colonel's orders."

"Yes. Damn him," she muttered.

Carson touched her shoulder. "Moira, is there something you need to tell me? As a doctor or as a friend? Let me just say, hypothetically, that my assistant is perfectly safe, even if she did happen to be pregnant."

Moira gasped. Looked at him. "I'm not! I mean...I don't know...we...um, um, the condom broke and I wasn't on my pills and we just...Carson...how soon could you test me?" she stammered nervously, stunned by his perspicacity.

Carson smiled. Patted her shoulder. "Five days. But for a more conclusive test you'd have to wait a few weeks. Moira? Are you all right?"

"No. I...." She turned away, blushing. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. Please, let's get to work. Not talk about this until I have to talk about it. Until I can be tested. Carson?"

"All right, love. Don't worry. Patient-doctor privilege. Right." He moved to the inner lab, delighted at the prospect of Moira being pregnant but outwardly calm for her sake. "I'll transmit all findings to your screen, love. Let's start with a simple DNA analysis and work from there."

"Thank you, Carson." Moira took a seat, relaxing. Shoving all worries, all thoughts aside as she lost herself in the science.

* * *

John shook his head. Squatted near the dilapidated drive pod. It had been a near thing flying the ship through the Stargate and to the Jumper bay. Now the wreck of the ship was parked by itself. Listing to one side like a wounded animal. Scorch marks marring its gray surface. "So? What are we talking here? A week?"

"Ha ha." Rodney emerged from inside the drive pod. Shoved up his goggles to view his friend. "Toast. The whole hyperdrive system, all secondary systems, even the Ancient power drives are toast. It's a wonder you were able to fly this thing home much less land it safely."

"Yeah...but I did it. So...two weeks?"

"Ha ha. More like never. Look," Rodney protested at John's disbelieving gaze, "I'm telling you! Toast! Burnt toast, all right? The best we can do is salvage her for parts. And there's little enough of that. You know what the problem is," he continued, rising to his feet and moving round to enter the ship, "these little Puddle Jumpers just can't handle the excessive power. They weren't designed for hyperspace travel. Only the hybrids are, which is odd because they are interfaced with the Wraith dart. I'm not quite sure how that Ancient tech merged with their tech but I will figure it out. You'd think it would work with Asgard technology, wouldn't you? But no. It doesn't. As I was saying these little ships cannot handle the power requirements."

John followed him into the ship. Ducking under a mess of hanging wires and crystals. "So...three weeks, then? Four, tops? Rodney, I need another ship hyper-capable ASAP."

"Hyper what? What?" Rodney glared at him. "Oh, sure thing, John. I'll just whip one out of thin air." He snapped his fingers. "There! One magic ship at your disposal."

"I'm serious, Rodney."

"Really? Because right now this is all a big joke! Move!" he shoved a technician aside, startling the man. "This console is fried! Fried! It barely responds to my commands."

"Maybe you should talk to it nicely, then,"John quipped. He moved to it. Touched it. Power flared briefly. Faded. "See that?"

"Yes, I can do that too...well, not as much, but some. It can't maintain a steady power source. These crystals...burned out. The engine logs...dead. Nothing is operational, or if it is it is functioning at the bare minimum!" He wiped his brow. Eyed his friend. "I'm sorry, John. We were lucky enough to achieve partial hyperdrive for a one-way trip. I seriously doubt we'll be able to achieve that again, or even more than that."

"You'll think of something, Rodney. You always do," John soothed, surprised at the unexpected apology. "So...two weeks, then?"

"Shoo!" He gestured. "Go away! Go do something military, would you? I can't work with you looking over my shoulder! And we should have called them Gateships," he muttered under his breath.

"Fine. But make it three weeks, then. Three!" He smirked as Rodney began muttering to himself. Left the scientist enmeshed in wires and consoles.


	12. Chapter 12

Colonization12

John glanced at his watch again. It had been over an hour. Still Moira had not come to him as he had requested. He looked at the console in the control room as Rodney typed. "It's permanent, then?"

"As permanent as anything like this can be, given the unique circumstances of having a doorway, as it were, to an alternate reality. Yes. No one will be able to breech this system. Well, except me. That other me could, I mean, but what are the odds he'd even try? Anyway, there is an automatic failsafe. Any outside attempt to access these systems or the Stargate will be fatally blocked. By fatally I mean by the computing systems, not...anyway, the Iris will automatically secure the 'Gate and all power will be shunted to only the most vital systems. In effect shutting down the city. Preventing any incursions."

"Good. I don't want another incursion," John remarked, looking around the room. Technicians were busily tending consoles. Checking the flow of data. "Damn it!" He tapped his earpiece. "Citywide!" he snapped. "Moira, report to the control room! I repeat, Moira, report to the control room. Now!"

Rodney glanced at his friend. "Uh, John, is everything all right?"

"No, Rodney, it's not. Gee, what gave me away? My pissed tone? My constantly looking at my watch?"

"Wow...Mr. Sarcasm, I see," he muttered. Shook his head.

"That's Colonel Sarcasm, McKay," John corrected. Stubbornly folded his arms across his chest and waited. Waited.

* * *

"I'm making a copy for my files. Carson, these sequences are amazing! And yet they are only dissimilar in some aspects. Like a subspecies. Carson?" Moira turned in her chair.

"Sorry, love." Carson emerged from the room. "Medical emergency. One of the marines is reacting badly to some medication. I'll be back in a tic. And you had better answer that summons from John." Carson locked the Wraith lab. Pulling off his gloves he quickly left.

Moira stood. She had heard the summons. Ignored it. Even as the irate tone of voice projecting from the wall made her body oddly respond in a sexual manner. That low, gruff voice making her lower body tingle. She sighed. Stepped to the Wraith lab. Looked inside. She entered the code. Pressed her palm to the screen. It chimed, went from red to green.

She entered the inner lab where the Wraith body was exposed on the table. Carson had begun the autopsy. Had made initial cuts along the body's abdomen. She winced, covering her mouth with her hand as the guts were exposed. Strings of intestines, a stomach. Very human. But shriveled, dessicate from decay or evolution she wasn't sure. Her eyes moved back to the oddly smooth hand. To the face. The toothy grimace. She neared, uncovering her mouth. Staring. Something was protruding from the corner of the mouth. She thought it resembled a tooth. Curious she donned a pair of rubber gloves. A pair of tweezers.

* * *

John checked his watch again. "Damn it!" he muttered. Debating. He felt like marching down there, dragging her from the lab, but refrained. He walked around the control room. Glancing at monitors. Touched a panel to make it flare with power. Startling a technician. He smirked, moved on to stand, to stare down at the inert Stargate.

"She's ignoring you, huh?"

John turned to see Rodney's smirk. "Not for much longer."

"Yeah, right." Rodney laughed. "You can't rush a scientist, John. Don't you know that by now? If she's busy with all that Wraith stuff you may not see her for days." He laughed again.

"Funny. Days." He turned back to view the Stargate.

"John. I need to see you. We need to go over the revised mission schedules now that the 'Gate is up and running," Elizabeth joined him.

"Can't. I'm waiting. For Moira."

Rodney snorted. "You've got plenty of time, John. Days, remember."

"Shut up, Rodney."

Elizabeth smirked. "I'm sure you can just as easily wait in my office, and get some work done." Without waiting for a reply she gestured, headed up the stairs to her office.

Rodney snorted again, but quelled it as John glared at him. "Give me a sec!" he called. Deciding to fetch her himself. "Stubborn woman," he muttered, striding across the control room.

"Can't wait? Wow...who has hold of the leash again, John?"

"Shut up!"

* * *

Carefully Moira opened the mouth. Mindful of the sharp teeth. Wicked points that could easily tear her gloves. Even in death the Wraith was dangerous. Yet seductive in its mysteries, its puzzles. She pried. The jaw was stiff with rigor mortis, but still malleable enough that she didn't need any special tools. Moira leaned close. Something was in the corner of the mouth. It appeared odd, misshapen. She inserted the tweezers. Cautiously rummaged around for it. Past the black, bloated tongue. She caught hold of something. Pulled. But the tweezers slid free. She cursed. Resumed her attack.

The organ abruptly jerked out of the mouth towards her.

Moira yelped, scrambling backwards. Dropping the tweezers as she fell. But instead of hitting the floor she hit a solid body. Strong arms caught her, kept her upright. Enfolded her close even as she was pulled away from the table.

"Damn it, Moira! What the fuck is that?" John snarled in her ear, staring at the elongated pink appendage. It turned towards them. Head opening like a flower to reveal a sucker.

"Oh my God! I...I found the sucker," Moira noted, secure in John's arms. She touched his arms at her waist. "It's...it's in the mouth. A secondary appendage to the tongue, with a more pronounced–"

"Shit!" It was moving. John did not hesitate. He spun Moira behind him, drew his sidearm and fired point blank. The head exploded into shattered bone and tissue.

"John!" Moira exclaimed. Alarms blared. John holstered his gun, whirled to shove her out of the room. He locked it, rammed his fist on the comm.

"Lab is secure! Repeat lab is secure! Rescind security protocols. Delta! To the Wraith lab!"

"John! Damn it! You've ruined it! It wasn't alive! It was an involuntary muscle response, probably due to the fact that I freed it from being retracted in the mouth and–"

"You!" He turned to her, pointed. "I told you not to approach that thing! Damn it, Moira! How do we know it isn't alive? How do we know that sucker isn't some kind of, kind of separate entity altogether!"

"What? Don't be ridiculous, John! It's dead! And now you've gone and ruined the specimen! We can at least collect tissue–"

"No! That thing is going to the Alpha site now and is being burned like the rest!"

"What? No! John, you are overreacting!"

"I'm overreacting?" he mocked. "You are putting yourself and possibly my child at risk and I'm overreacting? Damn it, Moira, you will continue to be–"

"There was no risk! None! To me or, or, or...you can't take that body! We need it! You can't destroy valuable research material just because you are overzealously protective! Once again you are neglecting the scientific value of a specimen in favor of being the shepherd of Atlantis! There's no danger to the city! None to me! Let me do my job, damn it! You can't–"

"I can and I will! You will do as I say, Moira, whether you like it or not! In there!" He pointed as the marines entered. "Grab a body bag. We are getting rid of that thing now!"

"No! John, you can't!" She ran past him, past the men to block the door. "We need every bit of information we can get off this thing! The differences are crucial to our understanding of the Wraith in that other galaxy, and how they synthesized the ATA gene! Plus there are other significant differences that made prove the thesis of a proto-Wraith here! Put your male ego aside and stash your Alpha male posturing! I'm fine! We need all the intel we can–"

"Move!" He caught her, pulled her gently out of the way. He entered the code, pressed his palm to the panel. It chimed, went from red to green. He glanced to see the inert body. The shattered head. "Bag it and we're off! Move!"

"John! Let me go! Damn it, John, let me go!" She struggled.

"No." He pulled her away from the room. Ended up swinging her off her feet and carrying her out to the hallway. He set her down, blocking her access to the doorway. "Go! Now! You will wait in our room until I return and then you will translate that message for me! Word for word! Go!" he bellowed.

She fumed. So angry her words tangled on her tongue. She whirled, strode down the hallway.

* * *

John entered his room. Entered theirs. "Moira!" he barked. Cursed. The room was empty. He stared round angrily, wondered where she was. He had destroyed the body. Had seen it burn. Returned now to find Moira yet again contravening his orders. His anger fueling hers. At the same time he felt himself becoming aroused. Longed to take her when she was angry. Knew the resulting sex would be hot, rough. But also knew he couldn't be too rough. He sighed. Was already getting a hard-on at the thought of taming her anger, turning it to passion. "Fuck," he muttered. Strode to find her.

He finally located her in the cafeteria. She had just taken a seat at an empty table. Tray full of food. He smirked. Grabbed a tray, filled it. Stalked to her and sat across from her. Glared.

Moira was not intimidated. "Go away!"

"No."

"Fine." She stood, moved to another table.

John smiled. Stood, followed after her. Sat across from her again. "You need to be disciplined, baby." She was silent, ignoring him. He snatched the tray from her. She met his gaze, glaring.

"You heard. I am going to discipline you, baby. In such a way that we will need to use the sex room. Do you want to know how?"

She stared. Pissed. But reacting to his smouldering gaze. His low, husky voice sending a shiver along her body. He was coiled tightly, poised as if to pounce on her. "No. Love nest," she softly corrected.

"First I am going to rip off your pants," he continued, leaning close. Voice intimate. Eyes locked with hers. "Then I am going to spank that pert little ass until it is scarlet. Then I am going to go down on you through those fucking panties until they are drenched and you are panting for me. Then I am going to fuck that tight little pussy until you beg me to stop. Beg me, Moira, to stop but I won't. I won't until I plow you through the floor and tame that wild Irish temper."

Moira gulped. Her body tightening, tensing. Responding vividly to his words. His voice. His brilliant green eyes locked with hers. He licked his lips and a soft whimper got strangled in her throat.

"There you are! Am I interrupting? I was–"

"Yes!" John and Moira snapped at the same time. Turned to see a startled Katie Brown staring.

Moira blushed. "Sorry, Katie. John and I were..." She hesitated. Decided. Stood. "Colonel, weren't you going to show me something? I'm sure it's quite small so it will take what? Five minutes?"

He scowled. Moved to his feet. "Yes, doctor. Lead the way."


	13. Chapter 13

Colonization13

Moira shifted on the stool. She suppressed a laugh, a grin. Her rear was still a little tender from the spanking John had zealously administered the previous night. His calloused hands at first stroking, teasing. Then smacking her rear repeatedly as she was sprawled awkwardly over his knees. The spankings had ended but then the groping had begun. The squeezing and nibbling until he had shoved her into the wall and taken her abruptly.

She felt a blush, recalling the rough sex. Repeated sessions as they had indulged for hours. Giving vent to their anger, their passion. Appetites sated at last. They had staggered to their room at two in the morning. Had collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change clothes, to clean up. John had fallen asleep with five minutes. Moira had taken longer, still astounded, pleasured, impressed by the marathon of sexual abandon.

She shifted again, tried to concentrate on the data in front of her. "One genome isolated."

"Good," Carson encouraged, sitting near. "That's another sequence. If your husband hadn't have destroyed our specimen this would be much, much easier. And would proceed much, much quicker."

"I know. I'm sorry, Carson. He overreacted...but you can't blame him. That sucker was quite startling. Moving like that."

"Yes, I can imagine. That is such an odd development I cannot even begin to imagine how it could be an evolutionary leap."

"Nor can I," she agreed. "It was in the cheek pocket, but longer than the tongue." Tongue. John's tongue teasing. Taking rough possession of her mouth. She shook the memory aside.

"Very odd," Carson sighed. Shook his head. Oblivious to her erotic mood.

* * *

John straightened. Flexed his back as muscles protested. He quietly groaned. A familiar ache was reasserting itself. He wondered if Moira would give him a massage. Remembered all the energetic activity. Remembered how she had slammed him down onto the floor as she rode him. Rode him hard. Naked bodies slick with sweat by then. Voices rising and falling in unabashed sexual tension, enjoyment. John straining, thrusting up into her as she writhed upon him, taking all of him into her.

He stretched his arms behind him. Relaxed, pushing the erotic images out of his mind. Failing. Rushing to that room, thinking he would barely make it in time. Then taking her exactly as he had described. Repeatedly. Roughly. Anger dissolving into passion, need, lust. Orgasms rising and falling, rising and falling. But never crossing the line from pleasure to pain.

He shifted again. Restless. "We should check out those reports of Wraith activity. The ones on..." he consulted the data pad, "M1R847. Teyla said those people are reliable."

"In time." Elizabeth eyed him. "What happened to you yesterday? You disappeared for the whole night. Which is why we are doing this now."

"Oh. That. I...had to do stuff," he evaded. Glanced at the data pad to hide his smile, his smirk. Like doing Moira. Repeatedly. "Had to, um, work out some anger issues," he added. "Rodney assured me that the city is secure from any future–"

"Anger issues? Oh, you mean the controversy over that Wraith body? Yes, Carson was very angry over your preemptive destruction of it. Made quite a complaint."

"Yeah, well, Moira was too." John kept his expression serious. Even as his cock stirred. "I couldn't take the risk, any risk. There were too many unknown variables and I won't take those kind of risks in the city. Although, in hindsight, I should have allowed them to gather more tissues samples, at least, before I disposed of it."

"Yes, you should have," Elizabeth agreed, amused. "I'm sure Moira gave you an earful."

"That she did." He smirked. Saw Elizabeth's gaze move to one ear, but she didn't say anything. John could still feel the bite. Knew the bite mark was visible. Moira biting him hard, so hard as he took her on the floor. Colored lights dancing on their naked bodies. Her nails raking up his back sharply. Her sounds wild, loud, primal as he pounded her into the floor. Making him shiver with possessive pleasure. "What? Oh," he shoved his memories aside, "it was for the best, is all I'm saying. Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

"Yes. I agree, in this instance, John."

"You do? Wow. I mean, thanks."

"Now, back to the mission rosters."

* * *

Moira frowned. Wished she had worn a more comfortable, softer bra. Nipples chafing at the scratchy material. Tender from John's kneading fingers. From his full lips sucking, sucking, pulling and nibbling until she arched in expectant ecstasy. She licked her lips, shaking her head.

"Moira? Found something?"

"What? Oh...no." She smiled, wishing she could stop blushing. "This is going to take weeks, Carson! To put together even half a genetic profile that is accurate and incorporates all of the various additions, like the ATA gene, like the altered enzyme."

"I know, love. It will be a lot of late nights, I suspect."

"Great," she muttered. Could imagine John's reaction. His long, lean, muscled body driving into hers. Sliding along hers. Engorged cock pounding, pounding into her. She had wondered if it would ever go down. Had hoped it would not as the sensations were amazing, exhilarating. With an effort she forced the images aside, ignored her body's awakening interest. "Damn it," she muttered. "I'll try to build a profile of all these altered enzymes. Maybe we can trace the origin, isolate it from the rest."

"Good idea, Moira. I'll concentrate on the genesis of these things. Their odd development." He looked at her. "Maybe not so many late nights for you, love, until we know for sure."

"What? Oh, you mean if I'm..." She sighed. "No. I can still do my job, Carson. Please, don't."

"All right, love. Sorry. Let's get back to work, shall we?"

* * *

John shifted. His pants were becoming tight. Shorts uncomfortable. Longing for Moira's soft, teasing fingers. Her nails. Her mouth. Her sweet, moist folds enfolding him in tightness. Pulsing over him, on him as he came in a stuttering rush. He shook his head.

"John? You disagree?"

"Huh? Oh..." he took a moment to recall the question. "No. I think placing a geologist on one of the away teams is a good idea. Maybe Lorne would like to switch out Kavanaugh for a bit. No, I'm sure he would. But no more than one scientist per team unless required."

"Still have that bias, do you?" Elizabeth teased with a smile. "I'm surprised, since you married one."

"Well, she's the exception to the rule. My wife." He smiled. "But I'm serious. No more than one scientist per away team unless required."

"All right. Unless there is a valid reason for the team to be composed of scientists. Not every mission is military, remember," she gently chided.

John shrugged. "Yeah. I guess. I'm trying to keep the teams happy, is all." He had certainly kept Moira happy last night. And himself. Lost in the throes of passion, of sex. Exuberant, noisy sex, holding nothing back. As if his hunger for her would never be sated. He wondered if she would analyze it. Scientifically analyze the wild, uninhibited passion that had claimed them both last night. Hoped she would. He was getting harder at the thought. Moira so serious, then so flustered. He licked his lips. Checked his watch. "I should get going," he said, as if bored. Stood after tugging out his pants, hoping they were not tenting too much. Smirked.

"Let me guess...another round of working out anger issues?"

"What? No...nothing like that . I..." He saw her smirk. Shrugged. "Maybe. I'll be around."

* * *

Moira stood in her room. The data pad stood open on the table, surrounded by the wilting roses. Red blooms starting to fade. Droop sadly. She felt awkward, embarrassed suddenly. At the thought of seeing John. She had not seen him all day. Not since the sexual excess of last night. She whirled as the door opened. Tangled her fingers together as John entered.

John closed the door behind him. Eying her. Almost uncomfortable, not being able to gauge her mood after the physical exuberance of the previous evening. He wasn't sure what to expect. Not having seen her all day. "Hey. What's wrong?" he asked. She seemed nervous.

"What? Oh...nothing. I...um...Carson. He, um, guessed. Your question. Assured me I was perfectly safe...he...we might be working late a few nights and he wanted to get me out of it but I refused because we don't know yet and I'm not an invalid so don't you go pulling that kind of crap on me either John."

John blinked. "Okay. Moira." He moved to the table.

"Okay, Moira? That's it? That's all you have to say?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes. We won't know anything for awhile, right? So why worry needlessly, sweetheart? You'll be fine. Either way. If you could translate this now I–"

"John! How can you be so calm?" she demanded.

He sat. Looked over at her. "Moira, relax. Until we know one way or the other there's nothing either of us can do, is there? Relax. Don't make yourself sick with worry. It will be fine either way. Now...if you want to become angry, well...we can schedule that, can't we, baby?"

She glowered. "I hate you. I hate how calm you are! I–"

"Yeah, it was fucking amazing for me too, baby. And as for being calm, yeah. I am. Now get that pert little ass over her and let's do this." He patted his thighs. "Moira?"

She sighed. Moved to him. Touched his shoulder. Then sat on his lap, straddling as she faced the data pad. She shifted, getting comfortable. "Okay, John. I just...we...we..."

"I know." H e slid his arms around her. Kissed her throat. "Relax. If you want to talk about last night, please, talk away, baby. I'm all ears."

She snorted. "Not all ears, sweetie. Keep that thing locked down, would you?"

He laughed. "I'll try, but damn, baby...angry sex is exuberance times two! Fuck. We can table that for later. Literally. Now...translate. Every word this time, Moira."

She smiled. He was so close, so warm. Protective. Teasing. Aroused.

At her continued silence he frowned. "Out loud, Moira. Do you need another spanking?"

"Oh. Sorry, John." She briefly smiled at him, turning to view his handsome face. "No, no spankings, colonel. My butt is a little sore."

He raised a brow. "Is it? Sorry, baby. I'll make it all better, trust me. I need you to give me a back massage. Muscles are strained."

"Are they? Sorry, John. I'll make it all better, trust me." She turned back to the message.

He lightly smacked her thigh. "Cute. Very. Out loud. I'm right here."

"Yeah, I noticed that, colonel. Keep the safety on, would you? Or will I have to discipline you for a change?"

"Stop stalling, baby. Translate. In full. And yes, discipline me later. In full."

She laughed. "As ordered, colonel." She sobered. Read out loud as the words gleamed on the screen. Sentences in Irish, undecipherable except to her. "'_My dearest Moira.'"_ She paused as he groaned in annoyance. Continued, "'_there isn't much time. I'm sending you a warning. While the viral poison has been extremely successful, nearly eradicating the ATA Wraith there have been unforeseen consequences and startling casualties. Carson fell during the invasion of the Alpha site. Ronon was taken to parts unknown while Teyla...Teyla was compromised. As were several others. The Wraith managed to infiltrate our codes. About the anomaly. They are on their way. To your reality, your Atlantis. Get out, Moira. Get away while you still can. They have their own dialing technology to overwhelm your systems and lock the 'Gate. You must get out of there now! As you were the key to destroying them you are also the key to curing them. Tell John to get you to safety ASAP. Hold the city against them, or your fate will mirror our own. They are unstoppable, Moira. Unique in every respect.'"_

"Son of a bitch," John muttered. "At least he warned us, barely in time but he warned us. Is that it?" He could feel her stiffen against him.

"Um. No. There's a little more...um, personal."

"Personal? Read it, Moira. I'm your husband. Not him. Read it now."

She heard the tension in his voice. She read out loud, "'_Moira, I did what I had to do to save the survivors. To once and for all defeat these Wraith. My Atlantis will rise again. My reality is safe for you now. I will let you do the research you need, want, were trained to do. I need you to also collate all the enzymes, all the proteins, find the connections we can't. To keep these things at bay. The ones that are left. Moira, I need you to help me complete the process. They can access the ninth chevron power acceleration through their evolutionary development, not through their technology! Help me, Moira! Connect the dots. I know you will understand. You will forgive me. Everything. Because you love me. Because I am him and he is me. You'll see. You'll see more of me in him and realize it was me you loved all along. I'll find a way to get back to you, Moira...my Moira.'"_

Silence. Moira swallowed. Nervous. Tense. She closed the laptop. She touched John's hands on her thighs. Waited. Stomach twisting in turmoil. She felt as if she had been caught with a love letter from another man. Not the same man, just a different version. She bit her lower lip, growing anxious at his silence. His stillness. Finally, slowly she shifted on his lap to see his face. "John?"


	14. Chapter 14

Colonization14

John was fiercely glaring at the laptop. Pure animosity on his handsome face. Green eyes sharp as ice, like daggers. Dangerous. Sexy. Tension in every line of his body, his face. Anger and jealousy colliding. "Fuck," he said low. Quietly. So quietly Moira could barely hear him, as close as she was to him. He met her gaze. Expression softening. "That son of a bitch. There's no way in hell he is every touching you, contacting you, or seeing you again. And if you ever, ever see an inkling of him in me you run. You get as far away from me as you can, Moira. Forget you love me. Just run."

"I...John?" She gently kissed him. Feeling the tension even in his full, succulent lips. "No. I will never–"

"Promise me, Moira. I'll be damned if I ever treat you the way he treats you, uses you, manipulates you. Plays on your emotions, on your love for me. For me! Not him. Me!"

She kissed him again. Snuggled against him. He felt hard, unyielding. "Easy, John. It's all right. I won't leave you. Not for him. Not for anyone."

"I should have killed him when I had the chance," he regretted.

"No! No, you couldn't do that."

"I could. To protect you. I would. I will," he grimly asserted. He kissed her. Stroked her arm. "Moira. Was that all?"

"Yes. That's all." She sighed. Traced circled on his chest as she swung her legs together to sit sideways now. "I...I should go back to, to work."

"No. Stay. Like this." He kissed her lips gently, stroking her back. Holding her close. Feeling her warmth, her softness. Her love. "Moira." He sighed. "Shit. I want to go away with you again. Leave all this. But somewhere warmer this time. No snow."

She smiled. "Okay, John. No snow."

"Good." He closed his eyes. Enjoying the feel of her on him, pressed to him. "We'll be resuming normal mission schedules in a week. Back to normal work days. On to the next crisis."

"That's life in the Pegasus galaxy, sweetie." She kissed him. Ran soft kisses down his throat. "John."

"Um, Moy...last night...wasn't too rough, was it? I mean...if you're–"

"No, sweetie. Not at all. You were perfect. Perfect," she soothed, kissing his throat again. "Even if I was you wouldn't hurt me or, or, or...so...oh. John?" She gently touched his ear. "Shit."

He chuckled. "Yeah, baby. It looks like we beat each up. My ear. My back looks like a road map. Tell me, is your pert little ass red?"

"A little," she teased. "And I banged my knee on the floor when I rode you hard. So hard." She laughed. Squirmed on him. "So hard, sweetie. My God!"

He waited, but she fell silent. "And? Please, baby, please, analyze every little bit of it. Every time we had sex. Rough sex. Let's see. The wall. The floor. The wall again. That chair."

"Hush," she scolded fondly. "Don't you think I know you get off on that?"

"You do? I wondered. Don't stop. I love it."

"I know." She kissed him. Straightened and slid off his lap, out of his arms. "I should get back to work. So should you. And no," she held up her hand before he could protest, suggest, woo, "we are not doing that tonight. Not like that, anyway. I want the bed."

He smiled. "Yeah, so do I, baby. For starters." He laughed as she rolled her eyes. "Meet me for dinner at seven, okay?"

"Okay, sweetie. But no surprises," she warned. Moved to the bathroom.

He leapt from the bed, ran to his room. Procured a surprise for her and left it on their bed. Exited the room to get back to work, anticipating her reaction, whatever it would be.

Moira emerged. "John? Did you...oh." She moved towards the door. Stopped. Looked back at the bed. There was a piece of fabric on it. A very sheer, skimpy pair of panties. A lovely lavender shade. A pink rose was embroidered on the very center of the front of the crotch. Like a floral X marking the spot. The exact spot she realized with a smirk. She turned them over in her hands. Embroidered in pink cursive letters was the legend _Property of Colonel John Sheppard._

"John!" she exclaimed, then laughed. Laughed in delight, shaking her head. She returned to the bathroom to put them on. To view the letters splayed across her rear. She laughed again, finished dressing. Anticipating dinner and whatever would follow.

* * *

John looked up from his dinner to see Moira in line. He smiled, watching her. He scrutinized her body, trying to imagine her pregnant. Wondered at her reaction to his gift. If she had even seen it. He licked his lips as she sat across from him. "Hey, Moira."

"Hey, John." She began to eat. "Oh! Thank you, colonel."

"Thank you?" he asked warily. Eyes on her.

"Yes. Thank you. For the gift."

"Ah. You liked it, then? I wasn't sure," he admitted with a sly smile.

"And that's why you ran away?" she teased.

"No. I do not run away. It's called a strategic retreat. I thought it was funny, but you...I thought you might be pissed, so..."

"Hilarious, John. It was very funny." He relaxed. "I'm surprised there isn't a matching bra."

He grinned. Lowered his voice. "Negligee. Very sheer. Sexy. With the same message across the front. And can you guess where the two roses are, Moira?"

She smirked. "Strategic camouflage?"

He laughed. "Yes. The perfect shade of rosy pink to match your–"

"All right, sweetie, I get it!" He laughed again.

"You will be getting it, baby. So..." He leaned to his right, trying to see around her, "um, are you wearing it now?"

"Yes. It's very cute. Skimpy, but cute. The words on my–"

"Pert little ass," he finished. "I bet."

"Hmm...you want me to wear the whole ensemble tonight?"

"Yes, Moira. I would very much like that. To thoroughly inspect my property," he teased.

"Hmm...too bad I don't have a similar gift for you, John."

"Oh, you do. Just wait, baby. I've got another surprise for you. Tonight."

"Really? What?"

"No. Tonight." He grinned. "You're going to love it, baby. I promise."

She smiled. "I can't wait, sweetie! Tonight?"

He stood. Leaned close, sang into her ear, "_Tonight, tonight, I'm getting fucked tonight."_

"John!" she scolded, laughing. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Prep time, baby. Need some, er, stuff."

"Wonderful," she grumbled, causing him to laugh quietly.

* * *

Moira reclined on the bed. Sighed. Impatiently waiting. She fiddled with the pink ties of the negligee John had left on the bed for her. She sat, shoved her loose hair behind her. Resigning herself she moved to the table. Opened her data screen and began to work.

John entered their room an hour later. Smiled. Gaze devouring the sheer lavender fabric. Her bare arms, legs. The fall of her long brown hair. Her feet covered by fuzzy socks. He walked over to her. "Hey, baby."

"Oh. Hey, sweetie. What took you so long?" she asked, feigning indifference. She yawned.

He smirked at her teasing. "Unavoidable reports and new security measures. Believe me, all I could think of was you. In that. Will you let me see?"

"No. I'm going to bed, John. I'm too tired now for any games or even sexual intercourse."

"Games? By games you don't mean Monopoly, do you?" he asked, intrigued.

She looked at him. Bit her lower lip. Deliberately moaned. Held up the manacles she had been concealing on her lap. His brilliant green eyes widened. Sparkled. A grin spread across his face when she produced a bottle of caramel sauce.

"Oh. My. Baby, please tell me you've changed your mind."

She sighed prettily. Stood. Stepped away from the table so he could see the front of the sheer negligee. "You were right, sweetie." S he touched the roses which covered her nipples. "Strategic. And they do match. The color, I mean."

He smiled, staring. Tracing every curve through the sheer lavender material. "Beautiful...my God you are so beautiful, Moira," he said in a hush. Body reacting vividly.

She smirked. "You'd say anything to get laid, sweetie, please. And this, well..." S he lifted the top to reveal the panties. Touched the rose on the crotch. "This marks the spot, sweetie. The exact spot if you take my meaning. Oh! You'll want to see this." She turned, lifted the back of the negligee. Wiggled her rear as the panties hugged it. The words emblazoned across her. "So?"

He groaned in appreciation. Laughed. "I love it. I absolutely love it, Moira. Love you. Love that pert little ass. Such perfection. Moira..." His fingers has just grazed a cheek when she turned, dropping the top to cover her.

"Sweetie, where's mine?"

"Right here, baby," he assured with a wink. A swagger of his pelvis.

She laughed. "No! Well, yes, but I meant my gift. My surprise?"

"What? Oh...you are too distracting." He pulled her into his arms, kissed her passionately. Hands sliding up her back. Then down to squeeze her rear. "Moira," he said low.

She playfully nibbled his lip, pushed free. "Surprise, sweetie, or you're not getting any."

He laughed. "Well, in that case give me five. Wait on the bed for me." He sprinted to his room.

She laughed. "Lose the earpiece, sweetie! I don't want any interruptions. None at all. John, you will need to be quiet. I'm going to tie you up, sweetie. The manacles."

"Chain me up," he corrected, quickly stripping. "What else? The caramel? Ooh...are you going to discipline me, baby? Discipline me hard?"

"Yes, sweetie. Do you want to know how I'm going to discipline you?"

"Hell, yes!" he enthused.

She laughed at his tone. "First, I'm going to chain you to the bed, colonel. Then I'm going to apply the caramel sauce. Then I'm going to work my way all over every delicious bit of you. Then I am going to ply that ordnance of yours until it is rock hard. Rock hard. Then I am going to savor it, suck it, bite it, and then take it into me. All of it. And squeeze so hard you will be begging me to stop. No, you'll beg me to continue until your cock breaks off inside of me."

John groaned as her voice teased, taunted. Lured him like a magnet. He was already achieving an erection and she hadn't even touched him yet.

"John? Do you need some help with that big, hard ordnance already?"

"Hilarious, Moira!"

"I'm serious, sweetie! John! Remember that these handcuffs are pushbutton. Don't you go breaking them with your big, strong biceps. And don't break the headboard."

"Can't promise that, baby."

"John! Don't forget the condom! Wait! Don't put it on yet. I'll do it...eventually. John, is this an elaborate costume or do you just not want to have sex? Do I need to break out the whip?"

He laughed. "Fuck yes! I always want sex, baby." He sauntered out of his room. Towards the bed where she stood. Manacles swinging in one hand, the bottle of caramel sauce in the other.

He swallowed. "Wow. So...what do you think?"

Moira smirked. Laughed, even as her gaze devoured him. The only thing he had on was a pair of boxers. Plum-colored with pink hearts on them. Erection very evident. "Adorable, sweetie!"

"Enough! You haven't seen the best part."

"Haven't I?" she teased, tilting her head. "I thought I was looking at the best part." Eyes roving from his stern expression. Down his long, lean torso. The dark hair on his chest, his arms. Leading her gaze down to his waist, to the band of the shorts. To his long legs. Bare feet. Back to the bulging material at his crotch.

He laughed. "Well, yes, that's true, baby. But I meant this." He turned. Leaned to wiggle his rear at her. The shorts hugged his firm cheeks. Emblazoned in pink cursive writing was the legend _Property of Doctor Moira Sheppard._

"Damn right, sweetie!" She laughed heartily, in pure delight.

John laughed, turned to her. Joined her at the bed. "I'd thought you'd like equal property rights, baby. It's only fair, after all."

"Good answer, sweetie." She kissed him. "Oh John! John!" She kept kissing him, pushing him onto the bed.

"Moy, how do you want it?" he asked in delight as she crawled up his body. Hot. Eager.

"Oh, I want it, John. First, though, I want to play. You need to be disciplined."


	15. Chapter 15

Colonization15

John was relaxed, was tense all at once. Sprawled on the comfortable bed. Moira climbing up his body, inch by inch. Kissing, teasing. She paused. Took hold of one wrist, then the other. Secured the manacles to each, then to the headboard. John tested the bonds. Made the chains ring slightly. Moaned as she ran her hands down his outstretched arms. Then her mouth.

"Don't you worry, sweetie," she assured in his ear. You know the safe word. Just don't break the headboard. And remember, push button release." She circled his ear, nibbled.

"Fuck. Okay, baby." He lifted his head to mouth a breast but she moved out of reach.

"No. Not yet, colonel." She kissed him. Savoring the perfect fullness of his lips, his mouth. Enticing, edible as she nibbled. Parted her lips to allow his tongue entrance. She smiled. Ran her fingers gently over the fading scratches near his eye. Through his dark brown hair. Along his stubbled jaw. "God...you are so beautiful, colonel. Mouth-watering. Jaw-dropping. Even panty-dropping."

He smiled. "I'm all yours, sweetheart. Every inch."

"Good answer, sweetie. If anyone dares to interrupt this I will shoot them."

"Fine by me, baby."

She resumed her exploration. Slow, sweet kisses along his lips, his jaw. His throat. "John, oh Jo-hn," she sighed, moaned softly. Whimpered to tease, to arouse.

"Moira, oh fuck...oh fuck, baby," he moaned happily. Testing the bonds again as she slid along his body. Kissing his collar bone. His chest now, nibbling the nipples until he shifted on the bed, groaning. Down his sides, then his waist. He moaned in surprise, delight as she nibbled his pelvis. Teasingly close, closer to the shorts and his straining erection. "Moira, you are going to make me deploy early," he warned in a gruff voice.

She laughed, a sultry sound making his balls tighten even further. "As long as you deploy, colonel. Oh...my...what ordnance is this? Such a big, long, hard ordnance...hmm...it could be harder, though. Rock hard. And straight up like an arrow. Keep it up for me, sweetie."

"No sweetie during sex," he reminded tersely. Tensing, eyes on her as she slid down. Her hands on his hips, tugging the shorts lower. Lower. Easing them down. She ran her nails along his thighs, then her mouth. Fingers boldly playing between his legs now. Catching his balls in her grasp against the fabric of his shorts. He groaned loudly, a tremble of anticipation, of need sliding along his skin. He shook the headboard and the chains rattled. He lifted his head to watch her. Tantalizing glimpses of her naked body through the sheer fabric enticing. Erotic. She stroked him. Up and down. Up and down. Until he jerked, legs moving. Hips moving. Locked in tension, arousal. "Fuck! Fuck! Oh baby!"

"Ssh, John!" She smacked his cock, eliciting another groan. Then took hold. Gently squeezed. Met his gaze, slyly smiled. "Do you want me to–"

"Yes!"

"Stop?" she finished. Licked her lips. Squeezing again.

"No! God, no! Moira, Moira...I'm going to come any–"

"Then come, sweetie. This is for you. All for you. Relax." She resumed her stroking. Then slowly pulled down his shorts. The fabric slid easily but still trapped him.

John nearly lost it when he felt her lips, her tongue on his bare skin. Following the shorts as they slid lower, lower up the hard length of him. "Fuck! Er, fudge, fudge!" he growled, straining. Tensing. Shifting on the bed almost violently. The chains rattled as he pulled. The headboard slammed, groaned in stress as he yanked, pulled. "Moira, Moira," he gasped.

"Easy, John..." she soothed. "I need to tame that soldiery hunger of yours," she teased. She licked her lips for him to see. "Did you say strawberries, sweetie?" she asked hotly. Spread her thighs on him, on his leg so he could feel her wetness.

"No! No, I didn't! Moira...I can't hold this! I–"

"Then don't, John. Don't. Oh! Shall I?" She slid down, leaned to resume her slow, almost painful progression along his cock.

"Fuck! Fuck, that is the best fucking oh! Oh God, oh!" he growled, spasms rushing along him now. Balls so tight he almost bit his lip in agony, arousal, hunger. Suddenly he was free and sprung up to her lips. Engorged. Eager. He lifted his head to see her dribbling caramel sauce on him. The gooey substance streaking along his cock now. She kissed along his length, steeled herself. Churned some saliva. Slid him into her mouth. Sucked, closing her lips around him. Tongue playing on his skin, the caramel, the tastes combining to a salty richness and sweetness.

She gently, gently bit.

"God! Oh God! Moira, Moira! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I've always wanted this! Oh my fuck!" he loudly exclaimed, dissolving into grunts and groans. Into ecstasy as she took him. So wet, so sticky. Sucking hard, swirling her tongue. Lips pressing, pressing all along the length of him as she pulled back, as he slid in her mouth. He jerked violently as the orgasm hit hard. A rush of pleasure. He yanked his arms so violently one chain snapped. The headboard splintered with a loud crack. Startling Moira who freed him. Sat up in alarm. He stared in pure lust as he slid from her mouth. Trailing saliva, caramel. It was too late. John thrust, thrust, coming so hard he shook, strained. Spurted without control. Moira slid up to catch him in her thighs, between her legs although there was no penetration. She squeezed on him, sliding him along, back and forth as he thrust, thrust, ejaculating in a frenzy of climax and release. His free hand grabbed the blankets under him and clung. The other balled into a fist still manacled to the splintered headboard. Body jerking, hips thrusting up, up, in. Harder, faster, rocking the bed. Nearly knocking Moira to the floor as she grabbed his thighs to steady herself. He sat, fell back with a shudder, a long exhalation of breath.

John melted into the pleasure. The pleasure riding him, sating him. Trying to catch his breath. To calm his rapid heart. The pleasure rolled, rolled. The orgasm rich, intense. "Moira," he croaked weakly. Rasping voice a testament to her success.

"Ew! John!" Moira slid off the bed, ran to the bathroom. Cleaned her thighs, her hands. Rinsed her mouth several times.

John heard the water, her disgusted exclamations and weakly laughed. "Fuck, oh fuck. I love you, Moira! I love you! Oh God..." He reached up, freed his other wrist. Removed the manacle dangling from his other wrist. Rubbed it. Sat, smirking at the mess on the bed. On him. "Moira?" He stood, yanked the blanket off the bed. Sat and caught his breath. Legs a little shaky after the rush of adrenaline. Lust. "Moira!" he ordered.

Moira stepped out of the bathroom. Towel in her hands. She saw the blanket on the floor. Threw the towel at him. "Here! Clean up! God! I should have used more caramel!"

He laughed. "Next time, baby."

"No! There's no next time, you bastard! My God! You came like a fucking fountain!" He laughed heartily. "Shut up! You were so loud! Damn it, John, you didn't have to shout it, did you? I only did that because I know it is one of your top fantasies!" She sat on the bed next to him, stared in disbelief at the headboard as he wiped his thighs, his cock. Trying not to laugh. "It's not funny! And look! Look at the headboard! John!"

He caught her. Kissed her passionately. "You still taste like caramel, baby," he teased. Pushing her onto her back. Sliding over her, onto her. "Oh baby, I couldn't stop it. You're right. It is my top fantasy of you, except you'd be dripping wet and naked. Even your feet. Fuck, Moira, you just gave me the orgasm of my life."

"You could just say thank you."

He snorted. "Thank you. I'm not kidding, baby. In fact it will be at least twenty or thirty before I can get it up again. So allow me to return the favor." He kissed her. "I want you, Moira. I want you, but first I'll bring you. Then we can have full intercourse."

She smiled. Stroked his bare arm. "John...you...oh...oh?" She stared as he caught her hand. Secured her wrist in the manacle still attached to the headboard.

"I can only do one. I broke the other. Sorry. Hold on tight, baby, real, real tight. I'm going to make you weep with pleasure. Suck every sweetness out of you and return it tenfold." Before she could reply he kissed her. Taking full possession her mouth, her tongue. Long, deep kisses that took her breath away, that made her melt under him. His hands roaming, parting the fabric to caress, to stroke her curves. Grasping, kneading until she murmured. His mouth trailed to her earlobe. Nibbling, sucking until she softly squealed as he licked behind it. His fingers untied the negligee, opened it. Moira arched into his mouth as he kissed down to her breasts. His fingers sliding to her sides, her back to lift her up, to nibble each hard, rosy nipple. To suck and suck and lick until she whimpered. Helpless. Flooding. Her legs opening to him as she squirmed.

"John! Oh John, John, oh God, oh God...I have to be quiet, I have to be oh John!" she softly cried, whimpering as his mouth finally freed a breast to travel down her waist. Nibbling her hip, down to the top of her mound. He caressed between her legs, found her wet, so wet, hot. The scent of arousal luring him. Making his cock stir. "John! John!" she pleaded, moving but his fingers were plying the fabric now, rubbing the cleft, searching, seeking.

"Fuck, fuck you are so beautiful...so ready, so mine. Ah...the rose marks the spot," he teased in a growl. He kissed up each inner thigh. Fingers gliding into the panties now. Plying every fold, opening her to his every caress, his every probing. He ruthlessly brought her closer, closer. He smiled, lifting to view her nearly naked body as it squirmed under him. Arching. Flooding. Ready. All his. He licked his lips. Slowly slid down the panties. Down, down, off with a sudden tug. He made a low, male, predatory sound in his throat. Turning her on even more. She shivered with desire, need. He kissed her thigh. Plunged between her legs to nibble, to suck. Sucking the nub so hard she cried out loudly. Jerked and sat, fell back to writhe on the bed.

"John! Oh John, John!" she sobbed, the orgasm hitting her hard, fast. Pulsing pleasure riding her wildly. She yanked the chain, the headboard as her other hand clawed the bed. "John! Oh God! Oh God! John, John, John!" she exclaimed, helpless.

"Ssh, baby, ssh," he soothed, freeing her but resumed. Hands sliding under her to squeeze her rear. To lift her up to him like an offering. Her thighs splayed wide as he delved deeply.

Moira lost it. Soft screams erupted into a rush of breathy exclamations. The climax throbbing, wild, her whole body flush with it. Tears in her eyes, her voice a soft then loud then soft inarticulate passion that was music to his ears. Arousal to his cock. She couldn't breathe, couldn't catch her breath. Straining, arching. "John!" she managed to squeak.

He freed her. Let her drop to the bed. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Hot gaze on her. "Damn, baby...only you could get it up again just with those sounds." He slid up. Kissed her deeply, reaching up to free her wrist from the manacle. Then thrust into her, already hard. She gasped, cried out, clutched him as he thrust, thrust. But suddenly pulled out of her. "Shit! The condom! Hang on!"

"No, no, John, please, please! Just pull out before you deploy!" she urged in a trembling voice. Grabbing at him.

"Okay." He needed no convincing. Thrust back into her, rocking her wildly. Rocking the bed. The headboard slamming, splintering further. Moira clutched him, ran her nails down his back. Down to his rear to grab, to squeeze. John groaned in release, ecstasy. She was clenching on him, hard, throbbing as he throbbed. Each motion creating waves of friction. But he drove deeper, deeper. Faster in a rush. Moira cried out as he groaned loudly. Coming at the same time. Climaxes in near unison. John braced himself as she writhed wildly, crying out his name in pleasure. Release. He pulled out and promptly shuddered, ejaculated on the towel as he swore profusely. Pleasured. Relaxing.

Moira tried to catch her breath as he suddenly collapsed on top of her. Needing the feel of her beneath him. "John? My God...John..." she whispered.

"You could just say thank you," he teased quietly. Breath hot on her skin.

"Thank you," she rejoined. "Did you–"

"Yeah. Deployed outside of target zone." He lifted his head to kiss her. "Moira."

"Oh John! John...you...John!"

"Ssh, baby," he chided. Smirked. "What the hell. We were both shouting, weren't we? Oh well."

"Oh well? John!" She hit his arm. "I, I...I can't believe what you, what I, what we–"

"Ah. No. No melodrama, baby. No regrets. My Moira. So fucking sweet head to toes. We both needed that, I guess, after the rough sex night, hmm? So much love and sex and sex and sex...are you okay, baby?" He slid off her. Touched her abdomen.

She smacked his hand away. "Yes! Don't, John! Don't!"

"Okay, sweetheart. Easy." He kissed her. "Ah, baby, just love and sex and sex and sex and–"

"Sex, yes, John, shut up about it, would you?" She kissed him. Snuggled into him as she turned to face him. "John?"

"Oh oh. Yes, Moira?" he asked.

She smiled. Closed her eyes. "Oh John...John...that was bliss. Pure bliss."

He smiled. Closed his eyes. "Yeah. Oh Moira. Moira. Pure fucking bliss." He held her close, drifting to a pleasantly drained sleep. "Our sweet, sweet bliss."


End file.
